Paradigm Shift
by Chasing Snarks
Summary: In which Frank is alive and well, but the Red Death is too, in a way that no one ever saw coming. When Osmosis Jones finds out that he was infected by Thrax, he must find a way to either change back or come to terms with his new future... before it's too late. He's about to find out the hard way what it's like to be on the other side of the tracks. Virus!Ozzy
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

 **"Life is a succession of lessons which must be lived to be understood." -Helen Keller**

* * *

 _He was running—to where, from who, none of it mattered. Osmosis threw back his head and laughed. Frank, he had never felt so alive! Voices clamored behind him, angry voices, demanding that he stop what he was doing, right now—but he ignored them, and kept right on running. The world caught fire behind him. Warm, raging, hungry flames lapping away at the City of Frank. He didn't mind. He didn't fear the fire. After all, he_ was _the fire!_

 _Osmosis turned tight around a corner, then hurled himself with all his might behind a dumpster in the narrow alleyway. He waited for his ragged breaths and pounding heart to slow down. The voices came closer. He hunkered lower and held his breath til it hurt. His entire body tensed. Would they find him?_

 _The footsteps of his pursuers came to a stop. "Which way'd he go?"_

 _"Beats me."_

 _"Look—what's that ahead?"_

 _"I dunno, looks fishy to me. Let's go check it out. Might be our virus. Come on, boys!"_

 _Their voices drifted out of earshot. As soon as they were gone. Osmosis stopped holding his breath. He was looking for something, but he couldn't remember what, just that it was very important. Huh. Weird. If it was so important, then how had he forgotten it in the first place?_

 _Uneasy, but growing impatient. Osmosis emerged from his hiding place. Something about the situation felt wrong, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it._

 _Was it because he was standing in the middle of a dark and dingy alley? He thought about that for a moment. Okay, yeah, that was definitely weird—not something he normally would have done—but it wasn't_ weird _weird. It wasn't what had him so unsettled._

 _Suddenly, the answer hit him like a thunderclap. He was running from Immunity. But he was Immunity. It didn't make any sense. Why would he be running from his own people?_

 _A reddish shape caught in the corner of his eye._ Thrax! _His mind screamed in alarm. Osmosis whirled around to face the intruder, hand reaching for his holster, ready to fight, but there was no enemy but his own reflection on the side of the dumpster. He yelped, and his gun clattered to the ground at what he saw. Osmosis Jones was no more. Instead, a red-skinned virus had taken his place, staring helplessly back at him with poison yellow eyes wide and mouth agape. Osmosis recognized it as himself—the same clothes, the same face shape; the same dark goatee and squared chin. But it wasn't him. It couldn't be him—_

 _"No…" He said, swallowing heavily._

 _"…Osmosis?"_

 _The reflection didn't go away. He backed up, shaking his head in denial. "No. Oh no no no no no—"_

"Osmosis!"

Osmosis Jones awoke with a start.

"Gotta get up, babe," Leah was saying. "You're gonna be late for work."

Osmosis looked about wildly for a moment before recognizing the inside of their apartment. Like much of the City of Frank, ravaged by the burning fever Thrax brought about two weeks ago, the complex had needed to undergo heavy repair and renovation. As such, the room still had somewhat of unfamiliar, touch-me-not feel to it, even though he and Leah had lived together in it now for nearly a week. So naturally, it took a moment before he remembered the small, lonesome looking desk in the corner or the light purple walls, somehow managing to look pleasant yet entirely without character at the same time.

The one redeeming factor of the room was the big window, overlooking the bustling streets of the Downtown Neck area of Frank. Leah had already drawn the curtains back, so he could see everyone down below, going about their busy lives. Cells going to work, cells walking their pets, cells going to school. Nobody was on fire.

Osmosis let out a shaky breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

Leah was already out of bed, pulling her dress over her head when she heard it. Adjusting it around the waist, she paused and gave him a concerned look. "Was it another one of those dreams?" She asked.

Osmosis rolled out of bed, digging around in the jumbled pile of clothes on the floor for his shirt. "Yeah," he sighed. "Same as last time."

"You've been having these dreams ever since you fought Thrax, and it just seems like they're getting worse." Leah studied him with a frown, arms crossed over her chest. "This is the second night in a row I've had to wake you up. You didn't hear the alarm."

"Alarm? I don't need no alarm." Osmosis flashed her a cheeky grin. "I've got you."

"Stop! I'm being serious!" Leah protested, trying to sound sharp but softening as Osmosis lunged forward, teasingly pulling her into his embrace and peppering kisses down the side of her neck. Forget the view, _this_ was the best part of living in the apartment. Waking up every morning and being with Leah. His lips wandered upwards until they found hers, and he kissed her firmly. Leah leaned into it for a moment, then roughly pushed him away. "Jones! This is serious. You're gonna make us both late for work."

"Aw, Leah Girl, you don't play fair! You really think that the Chief and the Mayor will care if—"

"Mayor Colonic might not care if I'm late to work, but I definitely think the Chief will have your membrane if you're late again. Besides, traffic's always bad this close to the jugular and you've got to pick up Drix."

"Alright, I'm goin'." Osmosis threw his hands up in the air in mock defeat. "But are sure you're not just jonesin' for a little more Osmosis?"

"You're not going to let me forget that line in a million years, are you?"

"Nope," said Osmosis, cheerfully popping the 'p.' He scooped his jacket off the back of his chair and put it on, then adjusted his holster for good measure. Grinning like a happy shark, he added, "and you're the one who said it, not me."

Leah sighed and rolled her eyes. "Just go to work, Jones." The effect was dampened by the small grin she gave in return. "I'll see you tonight."

He paused at the door and gave an affirming nod. "See ya tonight."


	2. Chapter 1, Part 1

**Chapter 1, Part 1—Inception: In Which Chill Gets An Unwelcome Surprise**

* * *

 **"He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster . . . when you gaze long into the abyss the abyss also gazes into you." -Friedrich Nietzsche**

* * *

 _The Liver, 7:34 AM_

Far away, in a different setting and under very different circumstances, Chill the Flu Shot was starting what promised to be a successful day. Well, perhaps _starting_ wasn't the best word to use. Chill had been going and doing since the break of dawn. It was the best time of day to get work done, you see; nice and dark and early, relying on the sheer amount of rainy perspiration produced by Frank's newly regimented morning gym sessions to muddle and wash away the trail of any illicit evidence he may have left behind.

Chill wasn't the strongest of viruses—and he _certainly_ wasn't the bravest or perhaps the wisest—but he was clever where it counted. And that was in making profit.

Chill worked for the cops, but not _only_ for the cops. To them he was just a cog in the machine, a valuable but not necessarily irreplaceable evil, and that even though he was granted amnesty under the Virus Protection Program, their brand of protection only extended so far. He had made plenty of enemies, and it was ultimately up to him to ensure that he didn't wake up one morning as a green shish kabob impaled on the claw of an angry, vengeful virus or squashed between the meaty fists of a stir-crazy bacteria freshly sprung from jail. As such, he has a habit of accepting odd jobs and doing small favors for anyone who asked them. To make ends meet, he occasionally housed mobsters, helped to hide stolen adrenaline, rigged poker games, and—his personal favorite—ran the betting pool for the neighborhood's ever popular and never legal chicken pock fights.

He figured that he went far, but never far enough that Immunity would consider him a greater threat than asset to them. Not that he was ever planning on ever letting them find out about the whole business, though.

But if they did? Tough. He was a cell of the world, Frankdammit. If they'd wanted his unshakeable loyalty, then they should have given him a steady paycheck instead of the ridiculous pay-as-you-go system they had set up, where the cash was only given to him _after_ the sucker he'd helped set up was caught.

And you want to know how often _that_ happened?

Not often enough.

Chill wasn't worried though. Funds from the police were tight, but in the meantime, he had his lucrative side business to depend on. He had not yet stopped for his morning cup of joe—there was a skeevy joint down in the blister of the big toe that he was meaning to try—but already his pockets were bulging with gambling money.

Ha, take that Stevie Melanoma. Who said a vaccine couldn't call a bluff when he saw one?

And so merrily Chill ambled down the shambling streets of Left Lobe Alley on his way to the bus stop, his lower arms swinging at his sides while his upper ones he tucked into his pockets, relishing the cold hard feel of the coins sliding against one another. He whistled a little tune as he went until suddenly—

"Hey, Chill! Long time no see." A clawed hand grasped his shoulder. "Where you off to? Not running off, I hope. You were supposed ta drop by and see me two weeks ago. I even paid you in advance."

"Ah ha ha—Bonecrusher!" Chill whirled around with a nervous laugh. He looked up into unsmiling face of the Dengue Virus, gauging warily for a reaction. Like most of his kind, Bonecrusher was a force to be reckoned with, with leaden claws that scorched red hot and a temper to match, though luckily he seldom let it surface. He was muscular and bald, and though not very broad or large by virus standards, standing a bit taller than most cells. "How you been, old timer?"

"Peachy." Bonecrusher replied, scathing. Scorching red eyes with yellow pupils drilled holes into his own, and Chill was forced to look away.

He anxiously wrung his hands together—the ones not still shoved in his pockets, that is—dropping his gaze lower, first to the goatee on Bonecrusher's chin resembling a narrow strip of flame then even lower, where a jagged scar cut bright across the mottled tortoiseshell skin before dipping down beneath the grimy neckline of his shirt.

"I see Raz's been rubbing off on ya." Another uneasy laugh welled up in Chill's throat, unbidden. "Where is that blighter, anyway? He's usually right behind ya."

Those fearsome yellow-red eyes narrowed down at him, making Chill feel he'd said the wrong thing, but all Bonecrusher rumbled was, "Raz couldn't make it today, and this ain't his business anyway. This here is between you and me." Without preamble he reached out and grabbed the Flu Shot's shoulder again, nearly dragging the smaller virus behind him as he led them away.

Terror shot through Chill, turning his insides to jelly. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to be so late! It was just bad timing, alright? Thrax was on the loose and I wasn't going nowhere! I swear! You can let me go now!" _If he takes me off somewhere, I'm screwed!_ He tried to pry the virus's claws away but found that he couldn't, so vicelike was Bonecrusher's grip. The talons plunged into his shoulder, rending apart the suede material of his jacket and threatening to do the same to the sensitive skin underneath. "I the wasn't trying to cheat you! Really!"

"You weren't tryin' ta cheat me? Honest?" Bonecrusher hazarded him a glance, but their pace didn't slow. Cells, germs, and other scum gave them a wide berth as they passed. Chill searched wildly for a pitying face in the crowd as he was drug mercilessly towards a more isolated part of town, but most of them avoided even eye contact, reluctant to come between the deadly Dengue Virus and his quarry.

"Honest as the tapeworm is long! I was just trying to support my family!"

"You don't got any family. You have no idea what it's like, lookin' after and worryin' about someone other than yourself." Bonecrusher said, not even bothering to hide his disgust this time.

Chill spluttered in denial. "I took care of you, once! And I've got me—I'm a family of one! Please, please, Bonecrusher!" He blubbered. "I'm begging you—don't kill me!"

They came to a narrow alleyway, where the space was filled with ramshackle, mismatched houses like a mouth with too many rotten teeth. "Inside," said Bonecrusher, going up the steps of one and throwing open the door. He shoved Chill inside, flicked on the lights, and slammed the door shut behind them. Chill gave another ragged sob.

They were inside Bonecrusher's lair.

The Dengue Virus turned to face him, and Chill reflexively raised his hands in vain to protect his face, bracing himself for the inevitable; for Bonecrusher's fury to break, for the heavy, brutal claws to come crashing down on his head at any moment, gouging his eyes out and tearing his proteins to shreds, cleaving him in two while liquid fire coursed through his veins. Maybe someone would eventually find him, or maybe not; maybe all that would be left was a few shreds of purple vest and a half melted pile of ill-gotten cash.

Chill waited, tense and aching, but the blow never came.

"I'm not goin' ta kill you, Chill." said the virus in that low, rumbling voice of his. "You know I'm not like that."

"Y-you're not?" Chill quaked uncertainly for a moment, then let out a breath of relief. Bonecrusher sighed, the glower on his face softening and the fire in his eyes escaping, only to be replaced by something else. Something almost _weary,_ Chill thought, but no, that wasn't the right word. He didn't know what was. Still wary of the Dengue Fever and unsure of how to break his reverie, he waited a beat before continuing.

"'Course you're not. You're the best of us, Bones. Always knew it. And you know what? I'll cut you a deal. How about this, we put all of this behind us and I give you your update. Then I come back next week and give you another one—on me."

Bonecrusher shook his head, and it was only then that Chill knew he was in the clear. The next words out of his mouth made his heart soar.

"No, I'll pay you, just as I always do." said Bonecrusher, stepping away from the door and deeper into his lair.

Chill trailed after him, careful in the dimly lit room not to trip over the storage bins Bonecrusher had left scattered on the floor. He was not unfamiliar with the Dengue virus's lair—in fact, he was quite sure that he knew it now by heart—the trundle bed and meager stove top on one side and a desk on the other, the storage bins usually stacked neatly in the middle.

Today was an exception though; nearly all the tops of the bins were off or askew, all sorts of memorabilia poking out—most of them were trite things, in Chill's opinion, nothing worth stealing: extra socks, papers, a lamp, and _whaddaya know_ , more letters. What did this guy do, run a post office or something? _Who cares what Bonecrusher does in his spare time,_ Chill decided, _I'm fine with it as long as it doesn't involve me._ It was only the dull glint of the gun handle that Bonecrusher always held onto that caught his eye.

"Don't even think about it," Bonecrusher rumbled darkly, as if reading his mind. Chill quickly shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Hey, hey, gimme some credit here! I would never! Not from _you,_ at least."

"Good," said Bonecrusher with a satisfied nod. He prepared himself a cup of dark coffee—not offering any to Chill—before heading over to his desk. He brought the steaming mug up to his lips, inhaling the bittersweet scent deeply before downing it all in one gulp. Wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve, he set the mug down with far more delicacy than someone with huge killer claws ought to have and cut straight to the chase.

"So, what's the latest news?"

"If you'd get yourself a radio or a working TV, you'd find out." Chill grumbled. "Seems everything he does now makes the headlines. Just last week he and his partner busted Johnny Strep and Scarlett E. Fever before they even got the chance to make a scene. Here, I brought you a clipping about it from the _Franktown Gazette."_ He sighed as the Dengue Fever accepted it from him gingerly, careful not to accidently tear it with his claws. "Do ya ever wonder if you're taking this all a bit too far?"

"No. If anything, I haven't gone far enough." Bonecrusher ignored him in favor of reading the news article, before pinning it up alongside endless sea of other newspapillae clippings that covered the corkboard hanging above his desk. The largest of them read _Heroes of Frank—Officer Jones and Cold Pill Stop the Biggest Villain of Our Time._

Bonecrusher was too busy staring at the display to pay attention, so Chill rolled his eyes. "Well, in my opinion, it's turning into _way_ too much of an obsession. Look at ya! You're a mess; ya live in a dump, ya got no money, ya don't have a job—"

"I _do_ have a job," Bonecrusher protested, but Chill waved his protest away.

"If it doesn't pay, it doesn't count. Pal, you need to let it go and just move on with your _life."_

"Don't you see? This _is_ my life." The Dengue Fever flung his arms open dramatically, his voice rising with increasing frustration, but this time Chill wasn't fearing for his life. He was sure this little episode would end much like the others before it had—with the virus remaining behind in his little hole and Chill waltzing off to make a small fortune, all the germs on the block aware that he had just returned unscathed from a meeting with a very dangerous virus.

"What would you have me do?" Bonecrusher asked in a rhetorical manner, and the Flu Shot resisted the urge to yawn. "Go after him?"

"If it means you'd stop moping around here like shingles waiting to happen, then _yes,_ absolutely," he said, layering his voice thick with sarcasm. "You should definitely go after him."

That gave Bonecrusher a pause. This in turn gave Chill another near heart attack, as he wondered if his mocking tone had pushed the deadly virus too far. But the anger never came. Instead, Bonecrusher blinked in surprise and echoed softly, "Yes, I should go after him."

"Wait—what?" Was all Chill could say. He studied Bonecrusher's face before realizing that the Dengue Fever absolutely meant it. He groaned in dismay. "You're serious. Oh no, Bones, I was _joking,_ absolutely _joking—_ you can't do that! This guy's a germicidal maniac! He and his crazy pill of a partner will kill you before you can say _prion!"_

Bonecrusher threw back his head and roared with laughter. "Ha! I'd like to see him try."

"One of you is going to end up _dead,"_ Chill groused, "and I'm just really gonna hope that that guy isn't you. Who else will I send when those other lowlifes refuse to pay back the money they owe me?"

"Oh, Chill. For a second there I actually thought you cared." A flash of white teeth as Bonecrusher curled his lips in a sardonic smile, adding, "And that was a onetime thing, I told you not ta ask any favors like that from me again. But it's decided now; I've made up my mind." He lowered his voice, the name escaping softly, almost tenderly, from between his teeth. "Osmosis Jones…I'm comin' for you…"

A newfound sense of determination rekindled the fire in his eyes and he laughed again, this time in unsteady delight.

"And ain't nothin's goin' ta stand in my way."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hey guys, I'm back! I've been meaning to keep writing this story for a while now, but never really got around to doing it. Not until I was encouraged a couple of days ago by SailorSaiyan93, so shout out to her for this chapter arriving as quickly as it did!**

 **Now, I'm sure a bunch of you are wondering, where in the world is the titular character, Osmosis Jones? Don't worry. We'll be getting back to his end of things in the second part of this chapter (which will be the next update!) and see how things are faring with our favorite white blood cell. In the meantime though, what do you guys think of my characterization of Chill and the introduction of this new OC? I will admit, I'm a bit nervous. I've never written OCs before, and this story will contain quite a few in the roles of major characters. In order for me to flesh out this world, I needed more than the original cast.**

 **I'd love to hear what you guys think. Regardless, the next segment should be up in two or three weeks. Until then, good luck with all your endeavors!**

 **-Chasing Snarks**


	3. Chapter 1, Part 2

**Chapter 1, Part 2- Inception: Donuts, Fame, and the Calm Before the Storm**

* * *

 **"He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster...when you gaze long into the abyss the abyss also gazes into you." -Friedrich Nietzsche**

* * *

 _Inside the Gums, 7:45 AM_

The last warm, sticky smell of Frank's coffee and breakfast was finally leaving the air when the cell girl working at Sweet Tooth flicked on the neon lights, indicating that it was open. Sweet Tooth, a bustling little drive-in bakery with its checkered floors and retro enamel countertop that that leant the shop the appearance of being forever stuck in the '50's. was a Frank-renowned confectionary located deep inside of one of Frank's right bicuspids.

After wiping down the windows, the girl greeted both the quiet, not-much-older-than-her cashier and the manager, a wiry, middle-aged taste receptor cell-woman whose bubbly pink complexion was very similar to her own. She slipped into the back room and down the corridor leading to her station. It was Saturday morning, and that meant she was in charge of drive through orders.

They had just opened; Was anyone already waiting outside yet?

She cast a cursory glance out the window. As of now, the drive through was empty.

Planning to take full advantage of the moment, she fished a hand-held mirror out of the pocket of her apron and studied her reflection in it intently. Holding it out at eye level, she turned her back to the drive through so she could would be able see any cars approaching behind her reflected in the glass. Uncapping the top, she liberally coated her lips with red lipstick.

A sporty-looking blue and purple sports car zoomed up behind her only moments later, skidding to a stop right as it reached the window. She quickly slammed the mirror shut and recapped the lipstick, tucking it back in her pocket as she turned to face the car.

It was driving was definitely very _eye-catching,_ to put it lightly. It was a sporty vehicle alright—the bold purple and blue flame patterns embellishing the front and sides of it quickly caught her eye. However, the first thing that she noticed wasn't that—it was the way the roof bulged on the passenger side, the membrane spread tightly over an indiscernible shape within.

The teenager quirked an eyebrow as the vehicle came to a complete stop. Regardless of the sudden arrival and the idle sense of curiosity causing her to wonder about the dent in the roof of the car, she put on a chipper Sweet Tooth smile as the driver rolled down his window. "Hi, welcome to The Sweet Tooth, serving Frank's finest sweets and confections since 1955!" She gushed as sweetly as possible, noticing that her customer was a white blood cell who was both relatively young and handsome, "My name's Roxy. How may I satisfy your sweet tooth today?"

Her customer—an officer, she noted, catching sight of the way his Immunity badge glinted as he leaned towards the window to order—smiled cheerfully in return.

"Yeah! Uh, I'd like two boxes of regular glucose donuts, one sucrose glaze, and one not."

She rang up his order with a small hum of acknowledgement. "Uh-huh. Will that be all?"

Somehow, this particular Immunity officer looked familiar… For the life of her though, she couldn't place her finger on why…

The customer spoke again, his voice bright and cheerful. "And in a separate bag, two chocolate glucose, extra cream!" He smiled and showed her two fingers for emphasis. "Ooh, and also add a galactose shake!"

A voice suddenly came from the far side of the Immunity officer, drawing Roxy's attention. She could see a large red and yellow pill sitting in the passenger seat. Huh no wonder the roof was bulging like it was going to bust! He was hunched over, his massive form much too large to fit in the seat properly. making the cell-sized car look like cramped and claustrophobic place to be. Roxy felt like she might laugh out loud, or at least chuckle a little at the pill's obvious predicament.

"That is over 985% of your daily recommended sugar intake," the pill said dryly, although she thought she could detect a faint trace of humor beneath his tone. "Are you trying to eat your way into a diabetic coma this early in the morning, Ozzie? And on the day we're scheduled to meet the new mayor, too!"

The white blood cell waved a hand, his carefree attitude unflappable. "Aw, I'll be fine. A little sugar first thing is all we'll need to get the party started up in here!"

Roxy blinked. There was no way—was there?

She needed to clarify something.

"Wait, Ozzie—As in _Osmosis Jones?"_

"Um, yeah…" The officer confirmed, causing Roxy to give a high-pitched, shrill-sounding fangirl squeal in response.

" _EIEEEEE!_ OH MY GOSH! Is this for real?" She gasped, her eyes brightened with renewed interest as she did an excited little jig up and down, unable to curb her enthusiasm. "It is! I'm really talking to _the_ Osmosis Jones! I wish I could take a pic to share with my friends. " She leaned out the window and batted her eyelashes. "Officer Jones, I am _such_ a huge fan!"

Osmosis looked both uncomfortable and flattered at this unexpected dispay of admiration, but flattery quickly won out. Puffing out his chest, he gave the she-cell a cocky grin and whipped a pair of shades out of his jacket pocket, putting them on his face. After so many years with a reputation as the Immunity department's biggest screw-up, it was nice to bask in the praise and recognition for a change. "The one and only," he said, trying to sound cool and collected as Drix rolled his eyes in the background. ("You know, I was there as well," the cold pill huffed, but Roxy wasn't paying him any attention).

An impatient-sounding honk sounded as another vehicle pulled up behind Osmosis's car, startling all three of them—or, as more realistically was the case, two of them, as Drix was counting the seconds until they got their donuts and took off—back into real-time.

"Hey! Move it, pal!" An angry-looking cell dressed in suit and tie shouted, leaning out the window of the driver's seat. "Some of us got places to be!"

"Sorry, sorry," Osmosis called back, twisting around in the seat to apologize as he tore the sunglasses off his face. "Got a large order coming through!"

Roxy glanced down and quickly finished ringing their order in. When she glanced back up, the bright satisfaction still shone in her eyes. She smiled and rubbed the base of her neck, a trace of sheepishness in her voice. "Sorry about that, guys. I guess I got a little carried away there. Your order will be ready in about five minutes. Your total for today is $23.45. Have a nice day!"

* * *

Six minutes later, Osmosis and Drix were back on the road. They hurtled down the jugular's bypass on their way to the Third Precinct, the radio turned back up to blare upbeat funk and the aroma of fresh donuts hanging deliciously thick and sweet in the air. Two boxes of donuts for the precinct; and two chocolate donuts and a galactose shake for the road. Osmosis groaned in contentment as he took another slurp from his shake.

"Mmm…. Thish ish good…" He mumbled through a mouthful of sugary goodness. Then he reached into the donut bag and dsemolished the pastry in a single gulp, the ravenous ache in his belly subsiding.

He glanced sideways over at Drix, who was being unusually quiet. "Hey—you want one?" He asked, rustling the bag enticingly.

"No. I'm fine." Drix said quietly in response.

"Okay." A pause. Osmosis hesitated, glancing over at Drix again and noticing both the tense way he sat and the morose way he stared out the window. "But sure you're not hungry?"

"No, I'm _fine,"_ Drix repeated again, an edge of finality to his voice. "As you recall, I am not a cell and therefore don't require any form of sustenance to survive."

"Yeah, but it still tastes good, don't it?" Osmosis asked. He licked off each of his fingers off with an appreciative smack then sat the bag down beside him. "C'mon, you love donuts! I don't know what you were used to eating at that fancy college boy school of yours, but _ooh—wee!"_ He gave his partner a teasing sideways look as he launched into the story. "Was I not prepared for what happened! I didn't think I was even goin' to get in a bite, the way you were gobblin' them up like a great, greedy macrophage!" He laughed, punching Drix playfully on the arm. "No wonder pills have a reputation for bein' so uptight. None of you guys have ever had desert!"

Drix couldn't help but chuckle at what was an obvious attempt by Osmosis to cheer him up. With a slight smile, he returned Osmosis's meaningful gaze, oddly touched despite his previous hurt feelings that the white blood cell had noticed he was upset.

It was surprising. Despite his brash, carefree behavior, Osmosis could sometimes be more observant and caring than he let on.

"Yes, well—maybe _that_ is the real reason I want to stay here in Frank." Drix said, crossing his arms over his chest. It was no easy task, considering the tight confines of the car and his considerable bulk. "Those delicious little pastries are to die for." A moment later though, he looked down with a sigh. "My papers still haven't come through."

Osmosis looked surprised. "Still? How long has it been?"

"Two weeks. I was given a green card after my time release program expired, but I've heard nothing back after submitting my appeal to become a citizen of Frank." The cold pill hesitated, reluctant to open up but needing to share his desperate fear all the same. "Osmosis… do you think… do you think the citizens of Frank don't want me? Sometimes all the people see when they look at the two of us is you. Has my novelty worn off already? I am a foreign body, after all. I am not even considered alive. Not like a cell, at least."

The car almost swerved into another lane as Osmosis nearly spat out a mouthful of shake. Both of them knew very well that cell communities were typically close-knit; distrusting of outsiders and non-body organisms, but it was clear from his staggered expression that Osmosis never believed such a thing could apply to Drix.

"Don't _want_ you? Drix, this city needs you! You're a hero. Imagine what woulda happened if you hadn't been here, 'cause I can- Frank woulda been six feet underground and worm food!"

Drix cast his partner a hopeful glance. "You think so?"

"I know so." Osmosis said firmly. "Besides, who needs a fancy-shmancy citizenship paper anyway? You're one of us! The Chief's already given you a badge and officially made you my partner. Heck, he even said he'd give you more ammo when your arm runs out of juice! You're an Immunity Officer of Frank's Finest and the whole city loves you! For every chick like the one back there there's another in this city who is Drixenol-crazy. You know what I'm talkin' about! C'mon, Drips," he added, using old nickname to get a rise out of his partner. "Does that sound like unwanted to you?"

"…No."

"Good." Osmosis gave a satisfied shrug in response, turning his attention back to the road as they exited the highway. "Enough with the crazy talk. And if we really _do_ need to go back down to the hemorrhoids to get your papers, you're in luck. I know _all_ the shortcuts down, in, and around that stanky, puckered center!"

Drix groaned in disbelief. "Do you have to sound so happy every time you say that?"

"C'mon, don't knock it til you try it!" Osmosis said with a laugh. Outside the window, he could see the Third Precinct building and all the police parked outside it rapidly approaching. Slowing down, he showed his ID to the cell at the front gate security, then pulled into his usual parking spot on the end of the row. Before he turned the car off and stepped outside though, he decided to take one last jab at Drix. "You know, once you spend more than a week down there, you get used to the smell. I still think I smell it in my dreams sometimes. But how can you blame me? I spent eighteen years of my life livin' in The Crack!"

"I think I'm going to be sick just thinking about going back there…"

"Yo, Drix—do you want to eat your donut before we go inside? You can eat and I'll just keep talking..."

"NO! Osmosis, so help me, I'm getting out of this car right now!"

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hey guys, apologies that this chapter segment isn't very plot-heavy. It's main purpose is to establish some of the key elements of this story that will be delved into further down the road, re-familiarize myself with the characters, and prove to you guys that I'm still alive!**

 **Over the summer I was very busy, both with working a job and hanging out with friends and family. Now I'm back at school, I plan on getting into a routine and updating this fanfic at least semi-regularly. Here's where I need a little help from you guys, however. Would you rather see shorter chapters posted more regularly (about 2,000 words or so, every two-ish weeks) or longer chapters, albeit with slower updates (about 4,000 words, every three to five weeks)? Tell me in the comments what you think! I look forward to hearing from you guys!**

 **-Chasing Snarks**


	4. Chapter 2, Part 1

**Chapter 2, Part 1—Heat: An Unexpected Promotion**

* * *

 **"At the temple there is a poem called "Loss" carved into the stone. It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out. You cannot read loss, only feel it." –Arthur Golden, Memoirs of a Geisha**

* * *

 _Third Precinct: The Lymph Nodes, 8:01 AM_

"Jones! Drix! My office, now!"

Osmosis Jones jumped in spite of himself the sound of the Chief's booming voice. After years of getting into trouble with the head of their department, the reaction was almost second nature. _You'd a-done it now,_ the white blood cell thought to himself before the second, more rational pat of his brain caught up to him with the reminder that it was unlikely that he was in trouble.

Old habits sure did have a way of dying hard, though. He sat down the two boxes of donuts he had tucked under one arm as he came through the door and turned to his partner. "Oops, sounds like we gotta go, Drix." Then, in a louder voice; "Coming Chief!"

The two heroes weaved their way through the early morning calm of the precinct— _enjoy it while it lasts, fellas—_ Osmosis thought fleetingly as they passed the holding area, where only a solitary green germ sat by himself, hands cuffed together.

In no time flat they reached the Chief's office.

"Hey, Chiefy-Weify!" Osmosis called by way of greeting, bursting through the door. "Wazzup?"

"Good morning, Chief Gluteus," Drix said as he jetted smoothly in behind him with a burst of cherry propulsion. "I am ready for an exciting day of work!"

If the Chief was ruffled by the informal greeting, he didn't show it. Setting aside the heavy stack of papers he had been sorting through on his desk, he looked up and greeted them both. "Ah, Jones. Drix. Right on time." He nodded cordially to the two officers, leaning back in his chair resting his hands on top of his ample stomach. "Today is gonna be a big day for you boys. As you already know, today is the day of Mayor Colonic's commencement speech, and it's a big deal. It'll be his first time addressing this whole town as the official mayor."

"Hope he don't got stage fright then, huh?" Osmosis mused quietly under his breath, low enough that the Chief wouldn't overhear. Drix glanced at him wryly.

Oblivious to their exchange, the Chief continued on. "They're projecting quite a turn out today, as you might expect, with cells and other microorganisms from all over the body making the historic trip up to Cerebrum Hall."

It had been almost fifteen years since Mayor Phlemming was first elected to Mayor. He was the longest standing mayor to have ever taken office, and also the first to be impeached. Removing him from office was like removing the festering, ingrown nail on a pinky toe.

Shortly after Thrax's defeat, a couple City Council members from the Frontal Lobe rallied together to press charges against the mayor for reckless endangerment and conscious, deliberate neglect of Frank's body. An investigation was undertaken by the FPD. As a member of the task force sent in to inspect his office, Osmosis remembered it like yesterday.

Mayor Phlemming had not only been incompetent, but as crooked as the nail on an ingrown toe to boot. Immunity had found all kinds of things he'd been keeping from the private eye: bribe money, secret recordings of private meetings, promises written to select interest groups. Worst of all though, was that he'd been deleting case-sensitive files with regard to Frank's health and understanding of infectious disease.

Out of sight, out of mind. That was how Mayor Phlemming operated. Osmosis had been stunned at all the information that rightfully belonged to Immunity that they had uncovered. Chief Gluteus had been so furious Osmosis thought they might have needed to call the fire department to stop all the smoke coming out of the Chief's ears.

Mayor Phlemming was removed from office the very next day.

"-So," said Chief Gluteus, bringing him back to the present, "a lot of our boys in blue will be out on the streets today—on traffic patrol. You two, however—I got a special job for. Mayor Colonic called me up _personally_ yesterday— "His chest puffed up until he seemed ready to burst with pride— "and asked that I would see to his personal security, as well as the security of all his guests. Now, I would have offered myself but as you can see, I already got all this paperwork to go through. And besides," he said with a knowing chuckle, thumping the hefty stack of papers down on the desk in front of him, "I'm at the age now where I'm not too keen on field work."

 _Hey, I'd much rather be out there than stuck in here!_ Osmosis thought, liking where the conversation was headed.

"So I went ahead and let the mayor know that I would be putting you two on the job. Officer Jones, Officer Drix—how would you boys like to act as Mayor Colonic's personal security team for this assignment?"

A thrill of excitement coursed through him at those words. _They were going on an assignment!_

"Alright! You got it, Chief! Ozzie and Drix are on the case!" Osmosis cheered, pumping a fist in the air. "We won't let you down!"

"That's the spirit, Jones. Now don't get too carried away." The Chief grumbled half-heartedly, rolling his eyes. His expression suddenly sharpened as he realized there was something he'd been meaning to do." Oh—and one more thing before you go. I think it's about time you'll be needing these." Opening his desk drawer, he procured two small, silver items from inside.

For a moment, Osmosis forgot how to breathe. _Are those—?_ His startled mind began, but couldn't quite finish.

The ends of the Chief's mustache twitched up into the faintest suggestion of a smile.

"But these… but these are Immunity T-Cell badges." Drix said, voicing the words that were running through Osmosis's mind. A smile quickly replaced the expression of disbelief that had spread across the pill's normally stoic face. "Thank you, Chief!" He said, as he reverently accepted the badge with his name on it. As if in a dream, Osmosis reached out took his badge from the Chief as well.

Osmosis looked down at the badge he now held in his hands. Fierce pride surged through him at what he saw. _Captain O. Jones, FPD,_ it read on the front, the letters standing tall and proud. Osmosis felt his throat tighten. He squeezed the badge tightly to confirm that it was real, and best of all, it was. The metal felt cool and unyielding against his skin.

 _Captain! I'm CAPTAIN Jones now! Bad, booty-shakin' Memory T-Cell, baby!_ Osmosis thought to himself. _Can't wait to see how all them germs gonna handle the Germinator now! Man, I can't wait to tell Leah!_

Chief Hamstrings chucked, his double chin folding over good naturedly as he got a good look at the young officer's face. It took a lot to render a cell like Osmosis Jones speechless. "That's right," he said, "I thought you two deserved a promotion after all the hard work you've been putting in. And Jones— " He paused, looking hesitant broach the subject. "I'd keep that one safe if I were you. It belonged to your father. I know he would have wanted you to have it."

Another jolt of surprise shot through Osmosis's spine at those words, as if someone had just dumped a bucketful of cold water on his head. His stared at the Cheif wide-eyed with disbelief.

Drix turned to look at him. "Your father was an Immunity T-Cell, too?" He asked, his tone curious and asking for details.

"Yeah. The greatest." He said thickly, the words sticking to the back of his throat. "Thank you Chief, I… I don't know what to say."

"Just say you'll take it, and do us all proud."

Osmosis swallowed down the lump in his throat and looked up at him, blinking fiercely. "I will Chief," he promised, "I will."

Somehow, he resisted the urge to throw his arms around the Chief's neck and give him a great big bear hug.

 _You a good man, Chief,_ he thought, thinking back on his words from two weeks earlier with renewed fervor. _You a good man. You a fine, upstanding man._ He remembered the days the Chief thought he would amount to nothing. How much had changed since then!

"Good. Well…" The Chief said, clearing his throat. He looked pleased but also fairly uncomfortable with the situation. He was the kind of cell who barked orders first and answered questions later, priding himself in his ability to follow a set list of priorities, keep office matters focused purely on the case, maintaining a personal distance between himself and anyone who set foot in his office. He was not used to dealing with officers—especially Jones—on such a personal level.

An expression of near-relief flood over his features as he noticed the clock on the wall behind them.

"Look at the time!" He frowned at them sharply, the transition back into commanding cheif mode effortless. "You and Drix are going to be late, and I need to complete this paperwork. Get your nuclei up to Cerebellum Hall, pronto!"

When Osmosis and Drix were still standing there a half second later, half in shock and surprised by his sudden change in demeanor, he snapped at them again. "What are you standing around and staring at me for?" He demanded, arms crossed. " _Go!"_

* * *

 _"Dad's home!"_

 _Seven-year-old Osmosis Jones bolted to his feet as soon as he heard the rusty hinge swing open. Excitement raced through his whole body as he ran to the door, not even bothering to turn off the TV. While he was enjoying the show, sitting still for so long had left him bouncy and energetic, and he was excited to see his father. Dad had been at work_ all day— _since before he'd even woke up for school—and in Osmosis's young mind, that felt like forever_. _Didn't Dad know today was a special day?_

 _His Dad was still standing in the doorway when they collided._

 _"Dad! Dad! I missed you!" He said, feeling his father stumble back but still managing to maintain his balance as Osmosis wrapped his arms around his waist, his face pressing into the warm, familiar smell of his father's leather jacket. He felt rather than heard the low, rumbling laughter as Dad held him close and ruffled his hair in response._

 _"Hey, Ozzie!" A warm surge of affection rushed through Osmosis at those words. Everyone called him that back then, but he always thought it sounded best when Dad said it._

 _Hearing commotion, his mother emerged from the kitchen. She looked tired—Ozzie knew her back had been hurting her again lately—but she still smiled upon seeing the two of them together. Dad noticed her and straightened up almost immediately._

 _"Hey there, pretty Momma!" He called, eyes sparkling mischievously. "Sure is smelling mighty fine 'round here. Is that cake for me?"_

 _Mom cocked her head in a mock-contemplative style and pursed her lips. "Dunno 'bout that, Mister Jones," she said, "but you're welcome to have a bite!"_

 _"No, me!" Ozzie protested, reaching up on his tip-toes. "I get first bite!"_

 _"For you? Now why would that be?" Dad frowned, his tone puzzled yet light. Ozzie giggled, knowing his father was only pretending to be confused. He was so good at pretending! Was that something taught to them at Academy?. Ozzie could hardly wait to find out. When Ozzie got big enough, he was going to go there and be a cop too—just like Dad!_

 _"'Cause it's my birthday, that's why!" Ozzie burst out, hardly able to stand the suspense any longer._

 _Immediately, his father dropped that look of trained skepticism. "Your birthday? Well why didn't you say so?" He grinned broadly, his expression shifting gracefully from one of surprise to one of delight. "Glad ta know I didn't buy these tickets here for nothin'."_

 _Ozzie leaned in closer as his father pulled three strips of small yellow paper from his coat pocket. He gasped and started jumping up and down, clapping his hands as he realized that they were tickets. And not just any old kind of ticket, but tickets to the Enzyme Elite, the best basketball team to play in the Total Body Series ever! Dad had bought them front row seats!_

 _Mom glanced between them, hesitantly biting her lip before she spoke. "Osteo. You know we can't afford this."_

 _Ozzie didn't understand why she sounded so sad._

 _"We can now, 'Mina."_

 _At Mom's puzzled look, he explained. "I got that promotion we were hopin' for. Chief sent word back ta me today." He stuffed his hands back in his pockets as if embarrassed but the proud grin on his face revealing that he was anything but. "Meaning, I get a fancy new title and a much-needed raise. I'm runnin' with the big dogs now—a Captain; just like Gluteus."_

 _His mother beamed. "That's wonderful!"_

 _Ozzie threw his arms around his dad and gave him another hug. "Yay, Dad! You're gonna be the best Captain ever!"_

 _His father chuckled. "Sure goin' ta try."_

 _Ozzie's experience with captains may have been limited only to the fearsome pirates featured in Saturday morning cartoons, but regardless, he knew his father was going to be great at whatever he did. Besides, even just talking about it seemed to make Dad really happy—and it allowed him to buy more fun things for the family like baseball tickets!_

 _Things were really looking up for the Jones family._

 _As they learned the hard way, however, good was too easy to last._

Osmosis shook his head, trying to clear the last, bittersweet traces from his mind as they drew closer to Cerebellum Hall. He remembered that particular birthday like it was yesterday. He remembered going to the big game with his parents, and the crowd being so tall that he had to stand on the bleachers to see. He remembered his mother screaming every time the home team scored and his father laughing, although he couldn't remember the actual sound of his father's laughter at all; everything was muddled and faded by time.

How long had it been since the accident? Thirteen, fourteen years, maybe? Osmosis wasn't entirely sure, but he hadn't seen his father since.

The white blood cell was actually slightly surprised that his recall of the events was still as good as it was, all things considered.

"Look, Osmosis, look!" Drix exclaimed suddenly, breaking his partner's train of thought. "I've never seen so many cells in one place before!" Osmosis turned and looked in the direction Drix was pointing.

Hundreds—maybe even thousands—of cells stood outside Cerebellum Hall, waiting for the speech to begin. Their cars were packed so tightly on the sides of the streets that they were literally crammed bumper-to-bumper, though luckily their soft, malleable membranes caused them to scrunch up without too much damage being done.

"Oh come on, like my baby wasn't already bent out of shape enough as it is," Osmosis groaned, glancing sideways at Drix. As usual, his partner filled the entire interior of the car, his head brushing the top and the roof bubbling around him. His ride wasn't showing any signs of being bent permanently out of shape yet, but he had no doubt in his mind that it would in a few years. Pliable cellular dynamics could only stretch so far. "Next ride we get, Drix, better be made out of pure cartilage." He scanned the streets for an open space before deciding. "Well, here goes nothin'."

With a _pop,_ the purple and blue sports managed to squeeze it into the improbable space between two cars.

"Nice parking." Drix remarked.

"Tell me about it." Osmosis winced as he struggled to undo his seatbelt. The car was so scrunched up now the steering wheel almost touched his chest. Everything suddenly felt tight and claustrophobic, even through there was still plenty of stretch in the vehicle's membrane.

He kicked the door open and wriggled his way out of the car, and laughed at Drix, who was still wedged tightly in his seat. "How's it goin', chunky?"

Drix looked up. "Jones," he puffed in that cool, no-nonsense voice that meant that he was clearly annoyed, though Osmosis could still detect the faintest trace of humor beneath it. "The next time we get a car, I think it should be made of reinforced _bone._ I don't know how you cells fit in such tight, squishy places. I can't get out. I—I think I'm stuck!"

"Cause we got them fancy cellular dynamics, remember? They help me get into or outta almost anywhere. Now hang on a minute, I gotcha," Osmosis said, as it occurred to him that his partner might actually be stuck. At that very moment thought, Drix managed to pull himself free.

"At last." He huffed. "Were you going to just stand there laughing all day?"

"Aw, c'mon, Drix! You know I would've helped." Osmosis grinned, pausing to check his holster and make sure he had everything he might need for today. He could feel the weight of his captain's badge hanging proudly from his jacket. "Now let's go! This thing's lookin' like it's gonna start any minute and we still gotta find the mayor!"

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hey everyone, I hope you're enjoying the story so far! I'm proud to say that this is the fastest I've ever managed to get a chapter up for this story in like, forever! I doubt the next chapter will be up quite as quickly; midterm season is rapidly approaching and I also have to get my wisdom teeth out in a little less than three weeks. Please bear with me in the meantime. If anyone has any preference on updates (see the previous author's note for details), let me know.** **Now, with that out of the way, on to the reviews:**

 **ChronoSeth: Hm, not sure why you couldn't see the third chapter. Hopefully you can now! I know that there's been a lot of buildup, but don't worry, we're getting close to the part where Osmosis's virus side begens emerging. There's just a few key things in this story I wanted to set up first. Next chapter though, I swear: things will definitely start heating up for our favorite white blood cell. ;)**

 **Enjoyed this story so far? Please review! I'll keep writing as long as people are reading but a comment would really make my day!**


	5. Chapter 2, Part 2

**Chapter 2, Part 2**

* * *

 **Chapter 2, Part 1—Heat: Viruses Return To A Not-So-Peaceful Frank**

* * *

 **"At the temple there is a poem called "Loss" carved into the stone. It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out. You cannot read loss, only feel it." –Arthur Golden, Memoirs of a Geisha**

* * *

 _Cerebellum Hall, 8:57 AM_

They found the Mayor surrounded by at least half a dozen reporter cells, who swarmed around the graying brain cell as he prepared to make his speech like a hive of busy, buzzing, overexcited bees.

Osmosis quickly flagged him down. "Mr. Mayor! Yo, Mr. Mayor!"

His loud voice easily caught the mayor's attention. Brow arched expectantly, Mayor Colonic turned to acknowledge him and slowed down his pace enough that the two Immunity officers wouldn't have to sprint to catch up.

However, this had no effect on Osmosis.

"Hey Mr. Mayor!" The white blood cell bounded up, as energetic as ever. "Guess what?" He grinned enthusiastically. "Chief sent us up here from the Lymph Nodes to be _your_ personal security. "Some of the reporters seemed irritated that the white blood cell was cutting into their limited screen time, but Osmosis neither noticed or cared. Regardless, the cameras flashed as Mayor Colonic reached to shake his hand.

Mayor Colonic chuckled, sounding bemused. "Personal security? I don't know if I'll be needing that. I asked Chief for a team to watch the event's activities, not some bodyguards. I may just have been elected to office, but I'm still just an ordinary guy."

Osmosis and Drix exchanged a puzzled glance. But hadn't the Chief said—?

"Be as that may, Mr. Mayor," Drix chimed in before the buzzing press could pounce, "It is important that we keep you safe. You might have won the election, but it's important to still be extra careful. There are billions of cells and other lifeforms in the body—and while most of them are friendly—some might want to do you harm."

There was a frightened, collective murmur from the media.

"Officer Drix!" One woman shouted, jutting her microphone out in front of him. "Is there danger in the area police aren't telling us about?"

Drix looked startled. "What? No—"

"Is this linked to the increased viruses activity in our city?" Another demanded.

Once again, Drix was not allowed to finish. The cold pill remained as cool and collected as usual, but the barrage of questions was becoming too much to handle. "Well, um," he began, "those are rumors. We don't yet know if any—"

"Are we in danger?"

"What can you tell us about the Toe Jam Murderer?"

 _Oh no,_ Osmosis thought in dismay as the rapid-fire barrage went even further off-topic. _This is getting outta control faster than Frank in a Taco Bell!_ He didn't know how he and Drix were going to be able to even _answer_ some of these questions, if they began going in the direction of the unsolved Toe Jam Murderer case and the strange disappearances of about a dozen cells linked to it _._ He was relieved when Mayor Colonic stepped in, smiling and businesslike. He gently cleared his throat, asking for everyone's attention.

"Ahem. Ladies and gentlemen, I know Thrax's attack has had everyone on edge, but I'm sure the FPD is doing everything they can. I for one know I am perfectly safe—and that the city Frank couldn't be in better hands. I am thankful for this extra precaution the FPD is providing and would like to welcome Officers Jones and Drix onboard as my security. Chief tells me that you two have been promoted—" Here he paused to flash a politician's smile at Drix and Osmosis. "—So congratulations, boys."

Drix acknowledged the praise with a short nod of his head. "Thank you, Mr. Mayor."

"Yeah, thanks." Osmosis echoed.

A sharp female voice suddenly punctuated the still atmosphere before he or Drix could say anything else. "Mr. Mayor! They're ready for you!"

Leah emerged from the outside carrying a clipboard. Her heels _click-clicked_ against the polished marble floor as she walked, confidently carrying out her duties as the Mayor's chief aide. She'd earned a reputation as Mayor Phlemming's secretary for being hardworking and ferociously loyal; becoming chief aide only served to solidify that perception other cells had of her. Several cells nodded their respect as she came in the room. Osmosis perked up immediately at the sight of her.

"Hey, Leah!" He called, delighted to see her. "Surprised to see me? Check this out! Girl, you won't believe what happened to me today!" He puffed up his chest and pointed to his Captain's badge.

"Jones?" Leah stopped dead in her tracks. "What're you—Chief sent you here?" Her confusion lasted for only a split second before she quickly blinked it away. "Wait a minute. You got promoted? Jones! That's amazing! And Drix too?" Her eyes lit up and her smile grew even wider as she noticed the cold pill beside him. "Congratulations, big fella!"

Drix smiled. "Thank you, Leah."

Osmosis leaned in close to give her a playful nudge. "You'd better be Jonesin' for a little more Osmosis, cause we're gonna be here all day!" He shot the Mayor a sideways look, half-joking, half waiting for confirmation. "Or at least until Mr. Mayor says it's okay to go home, that is."

Leah rolled her eyes but she still looked pleased. Mayor Colonic, on the other hand, either didn't notice or didn't get the joke. He was quick to assure Osmosis, "I'm sure you and your partner will be able to go soon Captain Jones. I don't plan on speaking for that long." However, he became serious again as he addressed the entire group, which consisted of the two Immunity officers, Leah, and the press."It sounds like everything is ready to begin. Captains Osmosis, Drix; you guys are with me. Everyone else; Leah will show you to your seats."

* * *

 _Cerebellum Amphitheater,_ _9:20 AM_

Mayor Colonic's speech was to be made outside, at the same place Osmosis and Drix had been as recognized heroes only weeks before.

The white blood cell trailed a few paces behind the Mayor as they went onstage, stopping behind the curtain so he couldn't easily be seen, Drix mirroring his position on the opposite side. When he was ready, he gave Osmosis a quick thumbs up. Osmosis grinned and flashed him a quick thumbs up in response.

Mayor Colonic meanwhile, confidently approached the podium. A cameraman tracked his every move. If he was phased at all, the graying cell didn't show it. His doppelgänger on the screen behind him was calm and collected and nearly the size of a house.

He smiled as he leaned over the mic. "Wow, thank you everyone for joining me here today." He paused as the crowd pressed forward and roared its approval. "I'm honored to be speaking in front of such a large crowd. Today I receive the greatest honor of my life, to speak as Mayor and represent this city. I promise all of you that I will try my hardest to be the Mayor you deserve over the next four years."

More cheers. From where he stood, Osmosis could see thousands in the sea of multi-colored sea of faces, stretching as far as the eye could see. They came from all walks of life. Some were white blood cells; some nurses and scientists, and others more often than not, Immunity officers like himself. Others were pale skin cells and chunky adipose cells, or nerve cells with flowing hair like Medusa or red blood cells still carrying oxygen tanks, freshoff of work. Then there were kinds of cells he couldn't even begin to identify.

He felt a swell of pride looking at them all. This was gonna be the start of a new Frank, a better Frank. Deep down in his cytoplasm, he just knew it. And as crazy as it was, it was all thanks to him and Drix!

From his angle, he could see Mayor Colonic in profile as he continued to speak. "—We are a city of second chances and redemption—a place where hard times have forged character throughout our history. We are a city of proud families, and neighborhoods with big hearts and welcoming arms that make everyone feel like family."

A hand brushed his arm and Osmosis jumped, before quickly realizing the intruder was only Leah. She squeezed in next to him.

"Scaredy-cat," She said, crossing her arms in a teasing manner. "What would you have done if I was a _real_ germ?"

"Scaredy-cat?" Osmosis yelped. "Now who you're callin' scaredy-cat? Girl, if you was a _real_ germ, you wouldn't even be here. Not with this captain around!"

"Uh-huh. Try tellin' that to someone who didn't just see you nearly jump out of your cytoplasm." Osmosis was to make a retort of his own, but then he saw that the humor in his girlfriend's eyes dimmed and was replaced by worry. "Speaking of jumpy though…did you see how nervous those reporters were acting? Someone's given them a lead on something and I don't like it one bit. They're all on edge…" She paused, seeming hesitant. "Jones, You're an officer. I know you know. Is there something goin' on here I don't know about?"

Osmosis glanced at her, then quickly glanced away, back towards where the mayor was standing, about halfway through delivering his speech. Something guilty twisted in his chest. "What? No, of course not! C'mon, you worry too much!"

Leah gave him a look that said she clearly wasn't buying it. "Yeah," she countered, "and sometimes you don't worry enough. I'm tellin' you, something here doesn't feel right, and I think we should get to the bottom of it. What was that reporter talkin' about, saying there's _increased virus activity_ in the city?"

"Oh, uh…" Osmosis wracked his mind for an excuse. _C'mon brain, think of something! Ah-ha, I got it!_ "Yeah, um. He was uh, he was talkin' about Frank's newest vaccines. Yeah, that's it! Those new Flu Shots. Those guys have been causin' all kinds of trouble since they got here, and it's got everybody goin' coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs, even the Chief."

"Uh-huh. Now why do I feel like you're not being honest with me?" Leah sighed.

"I am! I wouldn't lie to you! Everything here's _fine._ Not as fine as you, maybe, but _fine."_

"Osmosis, I wanna make this work, but I feel like you don't trust me."

"Leah, I do trust you! It's just—" Something sleek and yellow flashed in his peripheral vision. _I just worry about you and wanna keep you safe_ , he wanted to say, but instead he whirled to face it. _Danger, danger!_ his instincts were screaming, and Osmosis knew well enough now to listen, no matter how strange the situation may be.

"Just what?" Leah pressed, not realizing what he was worried about.

"I don't know," he said, and Leah's eyes widened as he drew his gun. "But I think you might be right. Something's up."

He looked out into the crowd and there he saw it—the flash of yellow from before. The flash was in fact a person. She had bright red and eyes and a spotted yellow membrane, the dark brown spots mottling her arms and the sides of her face reminding Osmosis a bit of an old banana peel. She wore her long purple dreads beaded and tied back in a ponytail, her mouth set and eyes burning with intensity as she shouldered her way to the front of the crowd.

 _Creepy,_ Osmosis decided. _Wouldn't wanna get on the bad side of her!_

She was close enough now that he could see that she had unusually long, straight fingers. They were held splayed out at her sides instead of curled into fists. Another second more and he realized that she didn't have fingers, but claws.

 _Wait a minute_ , he thought, alarmed. This wasn't a she-cell, this was a virus—and even worse, she wasn't just heading for center stage—she was heading for the mayor!

He glanced to where Mayor Colonic stood, smiling harmlessly out into the crowd. "We are a city of big dreams, and we have what it takes to make dreams come true," he was saying. "At Cerebrum Hall and community meetings, through letters, emails, and phone calls, you make your voices heard…"

Osmosis felt a thrill of excitement course down his membrane. Not taking his eyes off the female virus, he pulled the walkie-talkie out of his jacket pocket, his other hand curling even tighter around the gun as his wild emotions settled into a focused, ready sense of determination.

However, he could not have been prepared for what happened next.

All at once, the alarms behind them at Cerebellum Hall began going off. The white blood cell jumped and automatically whirled around, momentarily taking eyes off his quarry. Meanwhile, Leah's cell phone started ringing as well. "Leah Estrogen speaking." She said briskly, taking the call. Her eyes widened as she listened to whoever it was who spoke on the other end. "Oh no."

Osmosis turned to her. "What? What is it?"

Leah held up a hand for him to wait. The white blood cell could see the growing panic beneath her composure. She nodded as she spoke, her other hand gripping the one that was holding the phone. "Okay. I'll let them know. On it right now. Yes. You too. Okay, goodbye." She closed the phone with a _snap,_ shoving it back in her pocket and taking a deep breath to steady herself. "That was the Cerebellum Hall Security," she told Osmosis. "They've got five guards down. Don't know who it is, but someone's broken into the restricted storage space…

…and they've stolen Thrax's chain."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hey all! You know what I said about this being the chapter in which Osmosis's virus side would be revealed? Sorry about that, I guess I lied. This chapter is a little on the short side, but it felt like a natural place to stop. The next segment is a nice, long, action-packed one that I'm still trying to write but has a lot of things all coming together! I think you guys will really enjoy it. :)**

 **In the meantime, what did y'all think about this chapter? Any ideas on who might have stolen Thrax's chain?**


	6. Chapter 2, Part 3

**Chapter 2, Part 3**

* * *

 **Chapter 2, Part 3—Heat: Stop, Thief!**

* * *

 **"At the temple there is a poem called "Loss" carved into the stone. It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out. You cannot read loss, only feel it." –Arthur Golden, Memoirs of a Geisha**

* * *

Osmosis looked at Leah in alarm. "Somebody's stolen Thrax's chain?"

The purple cell simply nodded. "Listen, Jones," she said, sounding frightened, "I need you and Drix to find whoever this and bring back Thrax's chain."

"But the Mayor—"

"The Mayor will be fine," Leah interrupted. " Security already called the FPD and Deputy O'Cyte is on his way. But by the time he gets here though, it's gonna be too late. Whoever took that chain will be long gone" Something inside Osmosis jumped to attention at the thought of going on another crime-fighting adventure as Leah turned to him beseechingly. "The Mayor ain't stupid," she said, and Osmosis knew exactly where this conversation was headed. "He can take care of himself until Deputy O'Cyte gets here. But there's no tellin' what's gonna happen if someone gets away with that chain. You and Drix need to go after it!"

Osmosis could tell she didn't want to put either he or Drix in danger, but he didn't mind it. To him, it was just another day on the job. Besides, it would offer him another chance to save the city, impressing both the Chief and Leah!

Drix, realizing that something was wrong, jetted over from his spot backstage and was beside them in a heartbeat. Before they left, Leah managed to squeeze in a quick goodbye.

"Bring back that chain, baby," she said softly, leaning up on her tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek. Osmosis wished they had more time right now to kiss her. "You and Drix stay safe."

"We will," he agreed. "Don't you worry about a thing, Leah Girl. Me and Drix will have that chain back before anyone even knows it's gone!"

"I know you will!" Leah called as they raced downstage and towards Cerebrum Hall. Osmosis didn't glace back, although he was warmed by her praise. _We got this, Leah,_ he promised, the feeling of warmth kindling into determination, _We're gonna save the day_. _Ain't nothing we can't handle!_

However, as he pushed his way through the clamoring, uneasy crowd, it wasn't long before he spotted the same virus from before. She stuck out like a sore thumb, with her bright, spotted skin and too-sharp claws. It was a shame she was a virus; as a cell she may have been described as almost pretty with her soft, rounded face and expressive, almond-shaped eyes.

She was shouldering her way through the gathered cells, who had no idea they were brushing past encountered a potentially dangerous virus; everyone was too busy speculating what was going on at Cerebellum Hall. However, the virus was pushing _towards_ the building, headed the same direction as he and Drix. Now, Osmosis realized, her intentions were clear. She wasn't going for the Mayor—she'd been heading for Cerebellum Hall all along!

There was no way they were just going to letting a virus waltz inside. "That's the virus I saw earlier!" Osmosis exclaimed, turning to Drix. We gotta stop her!" Then, in a loud enough voice she could hear, he shouted, "Hey, lady! What're you doin' here? Viruses ain't allowed in City Hall!"

The virus turned, looking caught off guard by the hostility in his voice. It lasted for only a split second however, before something in her expression shifted. She had all the fierceness of a wary, cornered predator; the bloodthirsty gaze never heaving his, her lips drawn back in a sneer, her body tense and clawed hands twitching impatiently at her sides.

"Oh yeah?" She sneered. "Then you're gonna have to stop me!" Her voice was voice was firm, clear, with just the faintest trace of Spanish-speaking accent that made her words flow together.

Osmosis could feel his membrane heating up with indignation. "Oh yeah? It's on!" _You in trouble now!_ He thought. _No one beats this Germinator!_ He charged at the virus, expecting to stand her ground. However, the virus had other plans. As soon as he was in range, she turned and ran, beaded ponytail whipping behind her as she ran. He fired at her back, but the gooey green antibodies in his gun whizzed harmlessly above her shoulder, missing her by several feet. Osmosis could feel his membrane simmer in frustration. Although he hated to admit it, he really _wasn't_ the greatest marksman.

The virus seemed to sense that fact as well. She half turned around, eyes glinting bright her spotted face. "Ha! I've known half-blind grandpas who shoot better than that the best you can!"

"Hey!" Osmosis protested, "I'd like to see you do it! If you didn't have them stupid, ugly virus claws that is! You'd better come back here! You're under arrest!"

As quick as he was, she was even faster. By the time Osmosis was close enough in range to shoot at her again, she had already jumped and wriggled her way up onto one of the building's windowsills. Now she was straining and muttering under her breath as she tried to open the window. He felt a thrill of satisfaction as the window didn't budge. Cerebellum Hall was on lockdown, and the yellow spotted virus wasn't going anywhere—in or out. They had her cornered at last.

Osmosis slowed down as he approached her. "Stop right there!" He demanded, pointing his his gun.

"Oh yeah?" The virus raised a threatening hand, each finger glowing and alive with deadly heat energy. "Well you're not going to stop me!"

Instead of spinging to attack, she slammed her claws against the window with an explosive _crack._ Shards of glass and Osmosis just barely managed to react in time. He shielded his eyes just in time. A wave of hot air and glass rushed past him. When he opened his eyes, the virus was gone.

It was then Drix caught up to him, puffing and out of breath. "Ozzie! I think—" He managed between breaths, sounding as though he could hardly believe it. His eyes widened at the sight of the mangled window. "—I think know what kind of virus that is. That's Yellow Fever!"

"Yellow Fever?" Osmosis yelped. "What the heck is Yellow Fever doin' here? I thought they liked it where it was warm. If you haven't noticed, Frank ain't been goin' on no topical island vacations lately."

"I don't know," said Drix, "but what I do know is that virus is Yellow Fever. I would recognize that spotted membrane from my Virology classes anywhere!"

The white blood cell frowned. "Then we'd better go after her, before she anything else! Look at what she did to that window! Imagine what would happen if that virus chick dug her claws into something—or _someone_ —else?" He gestured to what remained of the window, which was still smoking and looked like it had been caught in the midst of a violent explosion. Osmosis grimaced as he came to a realization. Not only did this virus cause thing to burn—she caused them to _burst._

 _Not good, not good,_ he thought as he climb up on the windowsill. He was going to look for that virus. The sharp, still smoking edges of glass had a faintly bland, smoky smell. He was careful not to touch any of them as he balanced percariously on the windowpane.

"Whoo-ee!" He exclaimed, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "What is it with viruses and that awful, burning stank?"

He peered into the darkened room, immediately recognizing it as Frank's subconscious. It was a maze-like room was covered in screens, flooded with half-remembered images and scenes of Frank's darkest dreams, his secret fears and desires, and his mostly-forgotten childhood. Osmosis felt his membrane prickle at the sight. The subconscious was a scary place, and one he'd never been to before. On the wall closest to him, Frank was standing in front of a class in nothing but his underwear. In an image to his right, Shane screamed.

 _No kidding!_ He silently agreed, _this place is enough to give even a Killer-T cell night nightmares! Even if we all wanna know Frank, none of us wanna know him that well!_

He craned his neck, searching for any sign of the yellow virus. He couldn't see her, but that didn't mean she couldn't still be in there, hiding around any one of those darkened corners. Steadying himself on the ledge, he prepared to jump inside and investigate. Drix's voice suddenly sounded behind him.

"Osmosis…I'm not sure if this is a good idea. From what I remember, Yellow Fever virus like to travel in pairs. For all we know, our virus has a partner. We could be walking right into an ambush!"

Osmosis turned around to stare at his partner, growing impatient, and the longer they waited the longer he had to think about diving into the subconcious."So what if we are?" He challenged, not about to let his or his partner's nerves get the best of them. "I ain't scared of no viruses. Let's go kick some sorry yellow cytoplasm!"

"I don't know, Osmosis, if this is the best way to go catch our crooks." Drix met his gaze evenly, his tone cooly logical though Osmosis could still hear the hesitancy layered underneath it. "We took down Thrax by ourselves, but this time it's different. We're up against two deadly viruses instead of one. Is this really the best course to take?"

"Drix! You heard what Leah said- we ain't got time for no backup!" Osmosis protested. He was painfully aware that every second they spent out here was another second the virus had to escape. "Do you even hear what you're sayin'? Compared to Thrax, these guys ain't nothin'! We got this. And besides," he added, "If they get away, they get away with Thrax's stupid chain, too! We can take them on! It'll be two on two—what's the worst that could happen?"

He half expected to say Drix to say _a lot,_ but the cold pill merely smiled. "You're right," he said. "We can't allow this to happen." He gestured towards the open window, something light about his tone as they prepared to enter the Frank's subconscious. "After you, partner."

Osmosis beamed in response. "Alright! Now that's what I'm talkin' about! Let's go show these viruses what _real_ teamwork looks like!"

* * *

Lights flashed. Alarms blared.

Ricky Amino, self-proclaimed Yellow Fever virus extraordinaire, raced down the hall, unaware of the events going on outside of Cerebellum Hall or the current trouble his female counterpart was in.

How had it all came down to this? Ricky stifled a terrified groan, glancing mournfully down at chain looped around his wrist as if it held the answer. It seemed like only yesterday he was just an ordinary guy; your regular run-of-the mill white blood cell just living life inside Hector.

How had he gone from being a small-town thief to the mean, sneaky virus he was now—stealing bad guy's trophies and on the run from a bunch of cells in a strange city that wasn't his own?

"Oh, we're gonna die, we're gonna die, we're not going to make it," he moaned, wishing for the umpteenth time that he had actually listened to Maria. His stomach twisted as he remembered the bad way they'd parted.

 _Fine! Get yourself killed by the FPD,_ she'd spat, venomous red eyes burning with unshed tears. _See if I care! Serve you right for everything you did to us! No, save your apology—I don't ever want to see your stupid face again!_

 _Oh Maria…_ He sighed inwardly. Did she really mean it this time? His grip on Thrax's chain tightened. He would have to ask her when they got back.

 _If_ they got back.

"We're not goin' ta die," His unexpected partner on this heist, the Dengue virus Bonecrusher, growled. "We just gotta keep goin'. Don't worry, kid—I know my way around this joint."

Ricky nodded, doing his best to swallow down his fear. He'd had his reservations about inviting Bonecrusher along—the Dengue Fever tended to be a grumpy killjoy even on his better days—but what was he supposed to do? The older virus would have ratted him out otherwise! And besides, Yellow Fever viruses were never meant to work alone. Although he'd never admit it, Ricky was now glad that Bonecrusher had decided to come along. That guy was a powerhouse—he'd watched the Dengue Fever take down three guards at once without even having to ignite his claws!

The two viruses kept on running. Ricky felt like beacon, with his bright, yellow spotted skin and noisy, uncoordinated footsteps. His hair—which had been the bane of his existence since becoming a virus—stuck up in every which direction despite his best efforts to keep it pulled back with a cloth headband. He could feel it bouncing up and down with every step, purple coils falling in front of his eyes.

He spared a glance at Bonecrusher beside him, his mind automatically noticing how unalike they were despite being of the same general kind. Like most Blood Folk, the Dengue Virus's skin was mottled with the markings of his own kind, but also with an alarming array of scars. Three long, silver lines scored down one of his well-muscled arms that looked just like claw marks that just barely caused Ricky to suppress a shudder.

He'd heard before that viruses didn't heal the same way cells do—something about having a different immune system, or not really being alive in the first place—but he'd had yet experience recovery as a virus for himself. He wondered how many fights Bonecrusher had been in; how long it had hurt, and how long it had taken to heal.

He didn't have much more time to wonder, however, before they rounded a corner and ran into another security guard. Without missing a beat, Bonecrusher gave a ferocious roar and punched him square in the face. The unlucky white blood cell crumpled to the ground before he even got a chance to see what hit him.

Like a shadow, the Dengue Virus was suddenly gone, veering sharply to the right. With a clawed hand, he motioned for Ricky to follow. "This way." He called. "Hurry!"

"Okay!" Ricky said, struggling catch up to the older virus. They passed by a large sperm cell statue with words _Our Founder_ written on the plaque beneath it. Ricky frowned. "Not trying to doubt you or anything, _amigo,_ but you _sure_ ya know where we're going? 'Cause I'm thinking we've already passed by that statue. Twice."

"I'm sure," Bonecrusher replied, "Trust me, this is a shortcut. We still got time. Should be a couple more minutes 'til the cops show up here." He sounded confident, but Ricky noticed a slight flicker of uncertainty his yellow-red eyes as he said it.

Ricky's stomach gave another uneasy lurch. No matter how well the security guards were dealt with, it would be a whole other story when Immunity showed up. They were running out of time—and fast. Those guys didn't play around. He and Bonecrusher were deadly viruses; if they were caught, they'd be lysed for sure.

Was it worth it, to call this beautiful hypothalamus chain his own? Ricky no longer knew, but it was too late now to find out otherwise.

The only thing he did know was that it was getting harder and harder to breathe. His legs felt like lead and they were running with no end in sight. He glanced around the long, endless hallway, noticing the identical doors and the pictures hanging on the wall of pompous old cells time had forgot. They frowned down at him with dark, unseeing eyes as if to say _See, Ricky? This is what happens when you break the law._

They took a right, a left, and then another right again.

"I can't keep going like this," Ricky groaned in despair. "The pain is killing me. You're going to have to go on without me, Bonecrusher. Tell everyone my story. Tell them about my dream." The Dengue virus cast him a sharp sideways look as if to say he was being unreasonable but Ricky didn't care. He always had a flair for the dramatic. Now was no exception. He slowed to a walk, putting the hand clutching the hypothalamus chain over his heart. "But most of all, tell Maria—"

Bonecrusher slowed down as well. "Ricardo—"

"Ricky!" A voice called.

Ricky cut him off. "Say no more," he said, shaking his head sadly. "It's like I can almost hear Maria now; calling for me. She's saying—"

"Ricky Amino, you _idiot!_ I'm yelling right at you! Turn around!"

"Huh?" Ricky whirled around, unprepared for what he saw. There, waiting behind him with her arms crossed, was his sister Maria.

"I cannot believe you," she hissed. She was a Yellow Fever virus much like himself, with glaring crimson eyes and dark purple hair. Today it was tied back, in beads and a ponytail, and she was wearing her customary orange top and jeans. Her relatively simple tastes were a far cry from his own style—Ricky loved anything sleek and shiny, which was what had probably gotten him in this mess in the first place. In addition to Thrax's chain, he wore a non-virus chain of his own, looped around his neck and solid gold.

Ricky was a hustler, and he made good money. At least when he wasn't getting on the bad side of the police, that is. Maybe…if he told Maria he planned on selling Thrax's chain for money, she would forgive him for it?

Somehow, something in her expression told him otherwise.

She marched right up to him, glaring him right in the eyes and jabbing one long claw into his chest. "After everything we've been through—" Jab. "—After all _this_ —" Jab. "And you still never learn!" Another accusing jab. She looked out of breath, but not enough to stop berating them. Her red eyes flashed menacingly in the artificial light, and she looked every inch a real virus while he trembled in his capsid shell.

Oh boy, if they got out of this, he was gonna be in for it.

However, even knowing that couldn't dim his joy in seeing her. "Maria!" He cried. "You came back for me!"

Maria looked as if she could murder him then and there. "Of course I did, dummy. We're family, or better or worse," she said, but even despite the reassuring words her expression didn't soften. She then glared at the Dengue Virus as well. "Bonecrusher, I don't know why in the world you're helping my idiot brother, but right now I don't care. There's a couple of Immunity officers hot on our tail!"

 _"Here?"_ Ricky yelped.

"Officers? Who?" Bonecrusher demanded, an interested look sharpening his features. "What did they look like?"

"Who cares?" Maria said, rolling her eyes. "One was a pill, but the other was a regular old Immunity cell as far as I could tell. They all look the same to me." The easy nonchalance of the gesture was ruined as she glanced nervously behind her. "I managed to lose him back in the subconscious but not for long." As she talked, she grabbed her brother's arm and began dragging him in the opposite direction. "Hooray, you and Bonecrusher got your stupid chain. Now let's get out of here!"

"Not so fast!" An indignant voice behind them cried. "The only place you guys are goin' is jail!"

Ricky gasped, heart ready to jump out of his chest. All three viruses whirled around—it was the FPD!

* * *

 **Author's Note: Is Ozzie a virus yet? No. Some interesting character introduction/plot development. Yes, or at least I hope so. I warned you guys that this was going to be a long arc- filled with lots of action and plot, but I guess you'll still have to wait until the main event event. ;D In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed seeing Bonecrusher be reintroduced, as well meeting Ricky and Maria for the first time in this fic- they should be familiar characters to anyone who's ever watched Ozzie and Drix! However, I'm putting my own little twist on things by making them viruses in this fanfiction...All in all, I'd say this spells only trouble for our favorite white blood cell! *Bum bum bum!***

 **ChronoSeth: Thank you so much for the compliment! Although I know there are other readers out there, it means a lot to me when someone like you takes the time to review. I hope you continue to enjoy this story. The next chapter's dedicated to you!**


	7. Chapter 3, Part 1

**Chapter 3, Part 1**

* * *

 **Chapter 3, Part 1—Infection: Thrax's Failsafe**

* * *

 **"It's so much darker when a light goes out than if it had never shone." –John Steinbeck, The Winter of Our Discontent**

* * *

Osmosis braced himself for the three—not two, but _three_ — viruses to attack. _C'mon, Drix,_ he moaned inwardly, _what happened to there only being two?_ He regretted now giving up the element of surprise—but how the heck was he supposed to know they were going to need it?

Luckily, the viruses seemed just as surprised by their current situation as he was. The Yellow Fever virus holding the chain—this one male, and possibly a little older than Osmosis—wrenched his arm away from the female counterpart as he caught sight of Osmosis and Drix.

He raised his hands. "Whatever it is I didn't do it!"

The female Yellow Fever turned to stare at him incredulously. "Nice going, idiot. That might've worked, if you _weren't still holding the chain!"_

"Oh yeah? Well I don't see you having any better ideas!"

"Maybe not, but at least I couldn't think of one worse!"

What had started out as a tense confrontation was quickly devolving into a pretty squabble between the two Yellow Fever viruses. Osmosis debated on whether or not to let them fight it out or not when the third virus—who the other two had largely forgotten—broke in. He had a deep, rumbling voice that caught Osmosis off guard, although he wasn't sure why.

"Call off the cops, and we'll give ya back the chain." Yellow-red eyes glinted in the light, their expression bright and unreadable. The menacing virus took a step closer and Osmosis tightened his grip on the gun. Something twisted in the fearsome virus's features as he noticed, and his expression softened.

"Put down the gun," he rumbled, sounding less menacing this time. "I ain't planning on doing ya any harm."

The two Yellow Fever viruses had stopped bickering with each other just in time to realize what was going on.

"No way, Jose!" The male shouted indignantly. "We stole this chain fair and fair and square—there's no way we're giving it back now!"

"Yeah!" The female agreed, in a surprising show of solidarity. "I risked my neck coming all the way back here—I don't want to all to be for nothing!" She stood by the other Yellow Fever's side, glaring daggers at Osmosis and Drix. "Besides, I don't like you guys telling me what to do." Eyes narrowed, her crimson gaze settled evenly on Osmosis. "You think you're so high and mighty, huh? That just because you're a cell you're better than the rest of us. The truth is though, you have no idea. You're just scared of us. Scared of our looks. Scared of our power. Scared of just how dangerous we can really be!"

"I ain't scared of you!" Osmosis protested. He was a little scared, but not about to admit it. Besides, he bet the only reason this virus was cocky because she had them outnumbered. In a fair fight, she would've been running for her life!

The spotted virus gave him a sinister half-smile, lips drawn back to reveal whitened teeth. The claws on her right hand lit up. "Oh yeah?" She said, "Then why don't you _PROVE IT!"_ On the last two words she sprung, her long, knife-like claws extended and crackling with heat.

Osmosis was preparing to jump out of the way when suddenly—

 _BAM!_

A well-placed blast from Drix knocked the female virus off her feet and into the nearby wall, the ice from his gun drying quickly to plaster her in place. She cursed and struggled in response, but couldn't get free. Osmosis turned to look at his partner in surprise.

The cold pill raised his cannon and prepared for round two. "I can handle these two! Osmosis" He gestured to the still struggling female virus and the male virus who wasn't Yellow Fever. "You go after the chain!"

The male Yellow Fever turned and ran.

"On it!" Osmosis shouted, chasing after him. The virus looked over his shoulder, giving a cry of fright as he started running even faster than before. Osmosis forced himself to increase his pace as well. His heart pounded in his chest, every single one of his organelles racing with determination to keep up the chase. The distance between him and the virus thief was closing; he was close enough now that he could see the individual bumps and ridges along the length of the hypothalamus chain, most of which was swinging behind the virus thief as he ran.

They turned corner after corner, the distance between them continuing to grow steadily smaller.

When he was close enough, Osmosis lunged for the virus, tackling him to the ground. The virus gave a shout, but Osmosis was already reaching for the chain as they tumbled onto the floor. He felt a thrill of satisfaction as his fingers closed around the beaded knobs of the warm, living chain, the hypothalamus beads inside stirring faintly at the sensation of being touched.

"I'll be taking that!" Osmosis cried, stumbling to his feet as he yanked on the chain.

The virus didn't let go. "No way!" He responded, tugging back even harder on his own end of the chain in response. He rose to his feet, stepping backwards so that the mysterious black cord stretched thin. However, it was didn't feel anywhere near ready to break. "This chain belongs to me now! Get your own chain, loser!"

He gritted his teeth, wondering if he could still maintain his grip if he took one hand off to grab the gun. "No—this chain belonged to Thrax! And now that he's dead, it belongs to the cells of Frank!"

"No! It's _mine!'_

Looking furious, the yellow virus ignited his claws.

A red-hot burning sensation travelled through the chain. For a split second, Osmosis thought it was the Yellow Fever's infectious powers, traveling through the chain that served as some kind of conduit, but then he realized the heat was coming from the chain itself. The entire length of it was starting to glow; not a crackling yellow-white like the claws of Yellow Fever, but with a steady orange glow that undeniably reminded Osmosis of Thrax.

"What the heck?" The Yellow Fever virus yelped, dropping the chain as it began to sizzle.

Osmosis, however, found himself unable to let go. "What is happening to me?!" He cried as the pain burned into his membrane. Liquid heat coursed through his veins, radiating up his arm and screaming fire. _I need to let go!_ He thought frantically, but found he couldn't move. His whole arm was paralyzed with terror and pain, his fingers wrapped around the chain. He looked down, feeling like he might be sick but unable to do anything but watch.

The air undeniably smelled like something burning. His membrane was melting, soft blue skin dripping away like wax, and from his hands he saw the what looked to be the beginning stages of claws begin to form.

 _Wait a minute, claws?_ He began to wonder, but then the pain drove every rational thought from his mind as the off-yellow, infected veins beneath his skin began to burst. White flashed before his eyes, as well as another wave of heat, forcing Osmosis to cry out in pain.

What was happening to him? Everything hurt so bad. Where was Drix? Was he going to get to see his partner one last time before he died?

However, even as he was burning, Osmosis realized with a stab of panic that he wasn't turning into goo. His membrane was melting away to reveal something hard and brittle and _red._

His fingers were sharpening into claws, the pain of the transformation ebbing away as his changes became complete. From the elbow down his blue membrane was completely gone—burned away to reveal a hard, red capsid shell underneath.

 _"_ What the—" Osmosis gasped. Frank, he had _claws!_ " _No no no no no—_ this can't be happening!"

The heat wasn't killing him—it was _changing_ him. He was becoming a monster like Thrax!

Through the haze of pain, Osmosis let out a choked, strangled cry and dropped the chain. With a twitch of his claws, it slid to the ground with ease; flickering once, twice, then a final time as it faded black and innocuous once again.

His hand and arm no longer hurt, but everything else continued to ache. The ground was splattered with half-evaporated cytoplasm. Osmosis swallowed, feeling rather than willing his hands to curl into fists, the clawed fingers on one hand curling around one another to interlock. He felt like he might be sick.

Dizzy and shaken, he took a step towards the Yellow Fever virus. "W-w-what did you do to me?!"

The virus watched him with wide, disbelieving eyes. "It wasn't me, _amigo_ —honest! It was the chain! There must have been a built-in failsafe on it or something, in case another virus tried to steal the beads—"

He was cut off as Osmosis stumbled to the ground, letting out another cry of pain. His whole body was trembled with exertion as he fell to his knees. The ache in his cytoplasm was only growing worse, flashing in equal parts now between blazing heat and bitter cold. Strangely enough, the blazing heat was what he'd prefer.

His claws dug into the ground, yearning for a warm, lapping trail of heat. _So cold. Warm. Need to be warm. Where is the heat? There is no heat, so I need to burn—_

 _What? NO!_

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?" He roared again at the Yellow Fever, feeling his voice break. He got up off the floor, taking his hands off the ground before he could be flooded by another wave of instincts. "I-I'm not supposed to be like this. I'm a white blood cell, I'm a cop—I'm not meant to be a virus! Please, you gotta change me back!"

His heart sunk in dismay as he spoke the fateful words out loud. _Oh Jones, what're you doin'?_

The Yellow Fever took another hesitant step away from him. "I-I dunno, man," he said, his voice shaking. "I don't know what's wrong with you, but it's not my fault. I didn't do anything. You were the one who grabbed the chain—" The virus broke off, his eyes suddenly widening in dismay. Distantly, both could hear the sound of footsteps coming towards them. "Spit—Is that the cops? Forget it—I gotta get out of here!"

"Wait—" Osmosis shouted, but the virus had already slipped away and the infected cell was too weak to chase after him.

The sound of footsteps was coming closer.

Osmosis groaned, his terror reaching a fever pitch. "Oh no, what am I gonna do?" He started to hyperventilate as he looked down at his deadly claw. "Frank, I can't be seen like this!"

What was he gonna say to the Chief—to Drix—to Leah _?_

 _Leah Girl,_ something inside him mourned.

He only knew a little about cells that were infected viruses. Like everyone else, he knew they were handed over to the FPD, never to be seen again. But Frank, _he_ was an FPD officer, and even they didn't seem to what happened to them after that! No one ever told him what happened. After turning themselves in, infected cells seemed to just disappear. Nobody ever saw or heard from them again.

 _I don't want that happening to me!_

He glanced wildly around the room, his gaze falling on the hypothalamus chain. It was still lying harmlessly on the ground where they'd last left it, forgotten.

The chain _—_ of course!

He picked it up with his infected hand, winding it around his claws. For the first time, Osmosis felt a flash of hope. The Yellow Fever had said the infection had been some kind of failsafe, to protect itself any virus who wasn't Thrax. What if it held the key to changing him back?

 _Yes! That's it!_ Osmosis thought, trying to ignore how the beads felt, nice and warm and living against his skin, his inner Thrax rejoicing as they stirred to life at his touch. Desperately, he tried with everything in his power not to enjoy it. _Creepy,_ He decided. _And as soon as we're through, this is thing's goin' straight back to the FPD!_

His heart still pounded feverishly in his chest as he stuffed the chain and his infected virus hand deep in his pocket. It was just in time, too—at that minute Drix and a team of Frank's finest burst into the room, led by none other than the precinct's second in command, Deputy O'Cyte.

However, it was Drix who reached him first. "Ozzie! I tried to stop them but those two good-for-nothing viruses escaped! Were you able to catch the third one and bring back the chain?"

"Nope, he got away from me too, Drips." Osmosis wincing as pain shot through his good hand. Clawed tips began pushing their way through the membrane, fingertips pulsing with heat. He shoved them in his pocket as well, hoping no one would notice. The insides of the fabric were soon sticky and damp with cellular fluid.

"Is something wrong, lad?" Deputy O'Cyte asked, a bushy brown eyebrow arching in surprise.

The lanky older cell had always been relatively kind to Osmosis, but the younger officer couldn't help but feel a flicker of fear. He knew how Deputy O'Cyte had earned the nickname as the One-Shot-Wonder back in his younger years, using a single cytokine bullet to take down an entire gang of gingivitis cells on Frank's left bicuspid. As far as cells in the City of Frank went, the deputy was considered tough on crime.

He was a stickler for the rules- if Osmosis were to reveal that he had been infected, would he call the Mayor to send a team of Cytotoxic T's down when Osmosis refused to turn himself in?

Osmosis suppressed a shudder, thinking about the mysterious, elite task force. It was the job of the Cytotoxic T cells to travel around Frank, collecting intel on the body and taking down corrupt, cancerous cells. Their work was kept hush-hush, hidden from the rest of the public, but everyone on the Immunity force knew about them. Rumors spread fast, and Osmosis had heard they sometimes dealt with infected cells as well.

Not only were they Frank's Finest, but Frank's Fiercest as well. Each and every one of them was a lean, mean, cell-killing machine.

Realizing that Deputy O'Cyte was still waiting for an answer, Osmosis pulled himself away from those dark thoughts with a hasty shake of his head. "N-no! I'm fine! Why you ask? I'm just... I'm just mad about that stupid virus getting away with the chain. Yeah, that's it!"

He dropped his gaze, feeling dizzy and wondering how long how long it would take for the change to reach his eyes.

That did it. He had to get out of here- and fast.

Shouldering between Deputy O'Cyte and Drix, he raced down the hall, calling over his shoulder, "Don't worry about me fellas, I'll do the police report later! I—I gotta go, but I'll see you back at the precinct!"

"Osmosis!" Drix shouted. "Where are you going? I'm coming with you!"

Osmosis felt a bolt of panic. _There was no way Drix could know!_

"No, you're not!" He snapped, sounding harsher than he intended. "If you wanna do something useful go and check on the Mayor!" Something guilty twisted in his chest, but how else was he supposed to get the cold pill to leave him alone? He firmly resolved to make it up to Drix when he got back.

"Osmosis?" Drix called, but it was more of a question this time.

Osmosis didn't look back. He raced through the maze of corridors, his heart ticking away every passing second. He touched the hypothalamus chain again, reassured by its warmth.

 _No! What am I doing? Stop!_ He told himself, ashamed of his behavior.

He quickly pulling his hand away from the chain while making sure, however, to keep his claws carefully concealed inside his jacket's pocket. The changes were happening more slowly now, and he didn't want to make them any faster by touching the thing that had caused this nightmare to happen in the first place.

With every passing moment, he was becoming less like a cell and more like a virus. He could feel the capsid beneath his skin hardening, searing once again at his membrane. The claws on his left hand—the ones that had emerged later, and were not touching the chain—had almost fully formed. Heat stirred in his index finger.

With a jolt, he realized that was the same finger that ended up being Thrax's killing claw. I _gotta get out of here!_ He thought, barreling through the back doors that lead out of Cerebellum Hall. The back streets looked almost empty, much to his relief.

Osmosis let out a sigh he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

It was now a race against the clock. He had to find a way to change back soon, or else it would be too late.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hey all! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I worked really hard to get it up as soon as possible because I wanted to give you guys one more chapter before going on haitus. (And yes, I know, it's a cliffhanger-please don't kill me!) I really enjoy working on this story, but due to a lot of things going on right now I'm not going to have a lot of time in the nearby future to read and write. So, I have decided to take a hiatus for the next two months or so before starting back up again in January. I just wanted to let you guys know that it hasn't been abandoned.**

 **In the meantime, thank you for your understanding. See you all again next year!**

 **Sincerely,**

 **-Chasing Snarks**

 **P.S. On a side note, Officer O'Cyte is the name I made up for the Irish-sounding cell at the front desk when Osmosis first enters the precinct in the movie. As this fic goes on, there'll be Immunity officers filling in minor roles in the plot as well. If you have any ideas for a name/character, feel free to send them in. Who knows... you might see them in upcoming chapters! ;D**


	8. Chapter 3, Part 2

**Chapter 3, Part 2—Infection: The Hunted**

* * *

 **"It's so much darker when a light goes out than if it had never shone."—John Steinbeck, The Winter of Our Discontent**

* * *

"Well that was weird." Deputy O'Cyte remarked as soon as Osmosis rushed out the door.

"Yes. It was." Drix agreed, caught off guard by his partner's abrupt behavior as well. He had never seen Osmosis look so uninterested in a case or so eager to get away from Deputy O'Cyte. It left him feeling uneasy, as if Osmosis didn't trust him as well. What in the name of Frank was going on?

However, Drix didn't have much time to think as reinforcements from the FPD came bursting into the room, half a dozen cells with guns at the ready in a triangle-like formation.

"This is the FPD! Put your hands in the air!" Shouted the one at the very front. She did a double take, catching sight of Deputy O'Cyte and Drix. "Oh. It's only you guys. Did we lose the germs already?"

Drix recognized her immediately as being Officer Aorta Hodgkins, an officer from his own precinct. A tall, Amazonian she-cell only a couple years older than Jones, she had a shock of blonde hair and biceps large enough to make even a steroid jealous. She lowered her gun, face fixed in a serious expression while her eyes swept over the room. "Where's Jones?"

"We don't know." said Deputy O'Cyte.

"He said he's going after the other virus," Drix butted in, feeling the need to defend his partner. Whatever was going on, he trusted Osmosis to get to the bottom of it. Even if things did smell fishy. "I have my radio and I'm sure he'll keep us updated when he gets the chance. In the meantime, I think we should try and find the others!"

"Jones!" He was surprised when Chief Hamstrings shouldered his way to the front, muttering the name like a curse. "Fourty trillion cells in the body, and he's the only one who thinks he can do it on his own."

"Chief!" Drix exclaimed. "I didn't see you come in."

The Chief scowled, but beneath all the bluster Drix could tell he was deeply concerned. "Of course I came." He said. "I haven't left the desk in years, but then I heard from Cheif of Security that one of his boys encountered a Dengue virus."

Deputy O'Cyte spluttered. "But-but that's impossible! We haven't ran into a Dengue virus in thirteen, fourteen years! Not since-"

"Since Bonecrusher." The Chief finished darkly. "I know." His expression firm, he turned to Drix. "What can you tell us anout the viruses involved in the heist? Who are they? Were you able to get a good look at any of them?"

Drix nodded. "Yes, Chief, I was. There were three cooties involved. The first two were a pair of Yellow Fever." Despite their constant bickering, he suspected the two viruses were either good friends or a mated pair. "The last one I couldn't identify, but he definitely looked viral to me."

What he couldn't figure out was how their companion fit into the picture.

"Bald, middle-aged, reddish eyes and brown, patchy skin?" The Chief asked

"Yes, exactly!" Drix exclaimed, surprised he'd gotten it right. "But how did you know?"

Chief Hamstrings sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Because we've dealt with this virus before. For the past several years, however, he's been lying low and we haven't had any cause to arrest him. But if he's now breaking into the hypothalamus and stealing beads, that changes everything. He's a Dengue virus, for crying out loud. It's time we treat him as such."

Deputy O'Cyte grunted grimly. "Aye, Chief. Doesn't seem like there's any way of getting around it."

"And _you-_ " The Chief whirled around to face Drix, jabbing an authoritative, meaty finger in his direction. "I don't want either you or Jones anywhere _near_ this case, capiche?"

"But Chief-" Drix tried to protest, but the Chief cut him off.

"Bup ba bup! I don't want to hear it. You and Jones are perfectly capable officers, but you're not going after Bonecrusher and that's final. Got it? Tell Jones when he gets back. This case will be taken over by Officer Hodgkins and her latest partner, Officer Krebs instead."

A grim-looking cell shouldered his way to the front of the crowd, stopping to stand beside Hodgkins and the Chief.

 _A Cytotoxic T-Cell, here? How fascinating!_ Drix thought to himself, intrigued and wanting to know more about the rare Immunity cell. At first glance, Agent Krebs looked slim and unimposing, an ordinary white blood cell with a drawn face and a thick fringe of amorphous hair. His narrow eyes flickered languidly over Drix's large red-and-yellow frame, his expression one of trained nonchalance.

He nodded once to Drix, sounding almost bored. "Special Agent Calvin Krebs. Division: Cytotoxic T."

Drix propelled himself forward without missing a beat, eager to introduce himself to the new cell. ""Officer Drixo-Benzo-Metaphetramine. Or Drix, for short. I have never met a Killer T-Cell before. Welcome to the precinct!"

"Cool. And you can call me Cal. I don't plan on staying here very long." The new cell met his eyes with a neutral, unblinking stare.

Caught off guard, Drix turned to the Chief, but if the Chief was offended by the Cytotoxic T cell's abrupt manner, he didn't show it. Instead, he looked ready to swell with pride. "Well, you aren't in any rush!" He said, clapping the agent on the back. "After all, it's been a while since we've had a Cytotoxic T on the force."

The Cytotoxic T gave a small, humorless smile. "I'm here to do my job. We Cytotoxic Ts get rid of viruses in no time flat."

Drix wondered how his partner would take this new development.

 _Pfft, yeah right! Gettin' rid of viruses is our job!_ He could almost hear Osmosis's voice protesting in the back of his mind. _Who_ _does this guy think he is, Rambo or somethin'?_

Drix pushed the little voice to the back of his mind, trying to ignore the way his worry and resentment was growing. What in the name of Frank was going on, he wondered once again, and where was Osmosis? Why didn't the Immunity cell want to trust his own partner? Drix liked to solve puzzles, but this wasn't one of them. Right now he felt like his mind was racing a million miles an hour.

The Immunity cells the Chief brought with him began to fan out, searching the building's parameter for any signs of the viruses or the missing chain. Drix watched as Agent Krebs knelt down to touch something clear and sticky on the floor. "Cytoplasmic fluid," he murmured, gooey strands of it stretching between his fingers. "Strange...It looks half-evaporated, but it's from a cell."

If Drix had a heart it would've jumped out of his chest at that moment. "Are you sure?" He asked, looking down at the ground. "That's a lot of fluid."

The Cytotoxic T-Cell looked up at him impassively. "Very sure. A virus doesn't have a cytoplasm, so he bleeds his own code instead; sticky, black strands of nucleic acid. You can't miss it."

 _Oh no!_ Drix thought, _Ozzie's been injured, maybe even seriously hurt! How did I not even notice?_ His previous resentment faded away. _I must be a terrible partner._

At that moment Leah Estrogen came running into the room, flanked by the reporters from earlier. Drix stood there a moment, stunned, as the lights from the camera began to flash.

The elegant purple she-cell raced towards him, heels clacking against the floor. "Drix! The mayor told me to find you and Jones. What happened?" Her dark eyes swept the room, searching for something. Or _someone._ "Drix," she said after a pause. "Where's Osmosis?"

"Ma'am," Agent Krebs said, sounding irritated, "I need to ask you to step away from the scene of crime."

Leah put her hands on her hips, undeterred by the killer cell's prickly attitude. "Alright, I will, but only after I know what's goin' on-"

"Jones is missing, that's what." The Chief marched over from where he'd been taking with Deputy O'Cyte. "Drix says he went after our third virus." He shook his head with a sigh. "He's a fine young officer but he never listens! Or waits for backup. If it were anyone else I'd say it's a recipe for disaster, but this is Jones we're talking about. He's got more luck than a HeLa cell when it comes to surviving these type of things," he said with a grumble. "We're just gonna have Drix fill him in when he comes back."

What the Chief said sounded logical. Drix gave a short nod, willing everything to be fine. However, deep down he couldn't buy it.

"Chief," he said, hesitantly. "If it's all the same to you, I'd like to look for Jones."

He was relieved when the Chief hastily agreed, before being swarmed by a cloud of reporters. Drix started to back out of the room, but a soft hand touched the side of his cannon arm before he could leave. The bulky red and yellow pill looked down to see Leah.

"Good luck out there, Drix." The she-cell looked up him, the relief written clearly on her features. "I know you and Jones will catch that virus. If the Chief is too busy you can always call me or the Mayor, you dig? In the meantime, we'll be dealing with these guys." She jerked a thumb back at the reporter crew.

"I dig it," Drix agreed, awkwardly trying to get the hang of blood cell lingo. "Don't worry, Leah! Osmosis and I will be back before you can say hemochromatosis!"

With that, he turned and raced out of Cerebrum Hall, hoping that wherever Osmosis was, he'd be okay.

* * *

Osmosis stumbled through a seedy neighbor only millimeters away from being the center of the brain stem, his whole world shrouded in pain. He'd never felt anything like it.

The heat was blistering, burning, all consuming; he winced as he fell to the ground, his killer claw flickering with heat.

It had been doing that more and more often, as if it could anticipate his transformation into a virus was nearly complete. His shirt was damp with his own melted fluids and the lines of his body were rapidly becoming harder and more angular. He could _feel_ the changes surging through him, the last of his membrane sloughing away to reveal a hard, capsid shell. In addition to it all, his feet were becoming virus-like as well, clawed toes scraping inside of his shoes.

His membrane boiled with heat and shame. _Stupid_ , _stupid_ , _stupid!_

He inwardly cursed his bad luck. What had he been doing, thinking he could cheat fate with that stupid virus chain?

He could almost hear Thrax laughing at him now, the dark, maniacal sound of his laughter bouncing around his brain. _Can ya feel the heat now, Jones?_

 _Oh yeah, I can feel it now,_ Osmosis thought grimly, the fear of becoming like his enemy enough to drive away his faltering resolve he had at the thought of never changing back. _But_ _I can't allow it to change me! I ain't a killer like you, Thrax! Not by a long shot_. _I'm_ _gonna be a cell again. If only I could figure out a way to work this stupid chain!_

Back at Cerebellum Hall, everything seemed so simple, so easy. He would steal the chain and it would change him back. Everything would turn out just fine, right?

Wrong.

He found himself cornered in a dark, dingy alleyway with no one to turn to, more desperate and alone than he'd ever been in his life. Part of him wanted to reach out and call Drix, but an even larger part of him resisted the idea.

How could he ever let anyone—even if they _were_ Drix—see him like this? For Frank's sake, he looked like a _monster_. He doubted that even his partner's fancy-schmancy schooling could help.

 _I can still change back_. He purposely ignored the fact that the more he said it, the more it began to sound like a lie, even to his own mind. _And who knows, maybe even be back in time for dinner_.

Leah had booked a reservation for them down at a trendy little bar down in the kidneys, which the two of them had been looking forward to going to for almost a week. Afterwards, they would sit by the stones—which were due to pass any day now—and admire the stars. Or at least Leah would. Meanwhile he'd be wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer to gently nuzzle her cheek, letting her know he was ready to turn up the heat.

His wishful thinking was interrupted by a piercing wail and the flash of blue-and-rest lights. Osmosis quickly flattened himself to the wall, hardly daring to breathe.

 _Immunity_. They must still be looking for the chain! The rapidly turning white blood cell gulped, quickly stowing it behind his back. It pulsed to life dimly in his hands, his dirty little secret. _He_ was the thief now, and if he didn't figure something out—and soon— "turning up the heat" was going to have a completely different meaning for him than it did now.

The Immunity vehicle thundered by, the officer driving by too quickly to notice him standing there. The piercing wail soon faded into the distance, and Osmosis let out an unsteady breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

 _Good. They kept going_. He'd gotten lucky this time.

Another second more, and Osmosis un-plastered himself from the dirty brick wall of the alleyway, his whole body numb and shaking in disbelief.

This was turning into a scene right out of one of his bad dreams.

 _Only this ain't a dream—this is for real!_

The hypothalamus beads pressed warmly against his heat-starved skin. Slightly startled, Osmosis glanced down. What was going to happen if Immunity caught the original virus thief and he didn't have the chain?

He was gonna be up spit creek without a paddle for sure.

Osmosis grimaced, hating how warm and cozy the beads felt nestled in the crook of his claw. It felt so _right,_ a constant reminder of what he now was, when really, he wanted nothing more than to throw the stupid thing away .

He balled up his fist, actually considering it for a second. However, before he could do so, his body was wracked by another wave of pain.

 _I can't give up!_ Osmosis reminded himself for the hundredth time. He forced himself to take another step forward. His head swam, the ground rocking beneath his feet as he fought against another wave of dizziness. _Oh Frank_ , he though, putting a clawed hand over his mouth I _don't feel so good. I think I'm gonna_ — _gonna_ —

Before he could fully realize _what,_ exactly, Osmosis dropped to his hands and knees, stomach roiling in pain. He _really_ regretted eating those donuts.

 _I think I'm gonna be sick!_ He predicted it just in the nick of time.

He doubled over, vomiting up a clear, sticky liquid that sizzled as it hit the ground. It didn't hurt his throat, but left a cloying, sticky aftertaste taste in his mouth. Osmosis retched as he sat there, shivering, feeling tired enough that he wondered if he'd thrown up the last of his strength as well. Gingerly he wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve.

He was just starting to stand when a mellow voice behind him said with a shout, "Hey, pal—You alright? Did ya have too much to drink or somethin'?"

Osmosis turned to see someone standing directly behind him, a stocky gray cell who looked to be of the same kind of cell as Mayor Colonic. However, instead of a crisp uniform he proudly wore the thick rubber gloves and greasy overalls of a seasoned mechanic. His name was Burt Cytochrome, and he was hardly the kind to turn down a cell in need.

Even if that cell happened to be a young fella—just a kid, really—out drinking without a buddy.

He approached the shivering young cell, a kindly expression on his old face. "Lemme help ya out. I got a cellphone in my pocket. Wanna call your friends, let 'em know you're here?"

His sympathetic expression vanished the moment Osmosis turned around.

The brain cell stiffened in shock, unprepared for the grisly sight that met his eyes. Most of the kid's membrane had burned away except in a couple patches around his cheeks, too-sharp cheekbones jutting through the shining, delicate layer of skin that was punctuated by red-and-gold veins. Foreign-looking eyes met his own, their gaze glittering and cruel within the reddish, deep-set face.

This wasn't some poor kid who'd gone out drinking—this was a virus clawing its way out of its host membrane.

Burt gasped and staggered back, feeling like this was some sort of sick joke, or he caught in a dream after watching the movie _Invasion of the Golgi-Body Snatchers_ streaming in the subconscious last night.

He stumbled back, realizing exactly _who_ this new monster looked like. He pointed a trembling finger at what used to be a cell.

"You—You—You're one of _his_ kind!"

"What? No, I'm not!" The creature exclaimed, its acid green eyes widening in dismay. There was the silvery flash of a badge as it tried to stand. Burt felt a flash of pity, then terror, causing him to nearly forget how to breathe. Frank, this kid—now _monster_ —used to be a cop.

His membrane broke out in a cold sweat as he backed away, nearly tripping over himself as he scrambled to escape. _Holy spit,_ he swore under his breath. But out loud, all he could stammer out was, "P-P-Please don't hurt me! Get away! Please!" In a pleading motion, Osmosis reached out his hand, but the gray cell only cowered, shying away from his touch. "No! Don't touch me."

Stunned, Osmosis pulled his hand away. The realization was as hard-hitting as a gob of spit, leaving what was left of his cytoplasm to roil in shame.

 _He's honest to Frank afraid of me. I_ _really am turning into a monster!_

While Osmosis paused, looking distracted, the nerve cell scrambled several arm-lengths away, to what he considered to be safely out of reach. "St-stay away from me, you _freak!_ " He shouted. His dark eyes, once round with fright, were bright and accusing. _"_ I'm calling the police!"

"No! Wait!" Osmosis protested weakly, but the older cell was already whipping his phone out of his pocket and frantically dialing the number. The phone started to ring.

The brain cell responded without missing a beat. "Hello? Is anyone there? Hello! I'd like to report a virus sighting on Twenty Eighth Street. Yes, he's—"

Osmosis felt his stomach drop as he stood there, frozen in disbelief.

"—No, this is not a prank. I swear to Frank! He's staring at me right now. Looks just like Thrax, I promise, that El Morry Rojo fellow all over the news—"

 _That's it!_ The words "just like Thrax" bounced hollowly around his brain. Immediately, Osmosis was jolted from his stupor, imagining the red virus with his pointed chin, yellowed teeth, and crooked, leering smile. _No!_ He shook his head violently, refusing to believe that it was true.

Pushing past the graying cell, the newly transformed virus ran off before he could hear anything else.

In the distance, shrill Immunity sirens started to wail. The hunt was on.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hey all, surprise update! To those who celebrate it, merry Christmas! Consider this update a little gift from me to you. I finished it sooner than expected, so I decided to release it today instead of at the end of my scheduled hiatus. Expect the next chapter to be released then. Boy, it's been nice being on break. Now I feel all refreshed and ready to go!**

 **And there you have it, Osmosis's transformation into a full-fledged virus is now complete! I have to say, I'm quite proud of the way this chapter turned out. Now we're really on our way to the heart of this story.**

 **Just a friendly PSA, if you would like to give the author a gift as well, please consider leaving a review! Regardless, you'll be hearing from me again in the new year with the final installment of Chapter 3!**


	9. Chapter 3, Part 3

**Chapter 3, Part 3**

* * *

 **Chapter 3, Part 3—Infection: Despair Event Horizon**

* * *

 **"It's so much darker when a light goes out than if it had never shone."—John Steinbeck, The Winter of Our Discontent**

* * *

 _The Pons, 11:34 AM_

Osmosis Jones was running for his life. Behind him, he could hear the shrill wail of the Immunity sirens coming closer, could picture the red-and-blue flashing lights and almost feel the handcuffs closing, cold and vice-like, around his wrists. He'd never been more scared in his life.

His breath tore from his lungs in ragged pants, mingling with the already hot summer air. He was deep within the Pons area of the Brain Stem District now; a small area brain remote and far enough away from Cerebellum Hall that none of its residents had yet to be alarmed. Many of them did not even know about the break-in happening the first place. For the most part, the residents of the Pons continued on with life like they always had, the majority of workers conducting their work in doors, helping to regulate Frank's breathing and heart rate, or at one of the Pon's many control towers, helping to broadcast important radio signals to all other areas of the brain.

Unlike most areas of the body, the brain stem was so deep in Frank's inner workings—almost as deep as the subconscious, and that was saying something—that it hardly ever saw the light of day, making it a popular spot for night life and wild parties for cells and germs that could last well into the next day.

Without knowing any of this, Osmosis didn't know how lucky he was to stumble into the Pons undetected, especially as close as he was to the Red-Light District. Since today was the day of the Mayor's commencement, the streets were almost deserted. The majority of nerve cells had gone to the Cerebellum, the neon lights to their stores switched off, their entrances deserted and gray.

However, right now Osmosis didn't even bother looking at the stores. All he was concerned about right now was _getting away._

So focused on that, Osmosis didn't even care where he was running _to_ until it was too late. The narrow street he'd been running down had reached a dead end.

"Oh no," he groaned, slowing to a stop. His whole body ached, but it was no longer from the transformation. It was from exertion. He looked at the high wall he would have to climb over to make his escape. "Why's it gotta be so high?"

He stiffened, turning around as the sound of sirens drew closer. No, it wasn't just his imagination; the Immunity car was drawing closer. _Oh Frank, what am I gonna do? I can't be trapped here! There's gotta be a way to escape._

He looked up at the sturdy wall again. The killer claw on his index finger lit up as if it had a mind of his own. Osmosis gasped as a warm current of heat ran through his body. He looked up at the fence, flexing his claw. His whole body was filled with a strange sort of longing as he imagined what it would be like to set it on fire.

Oh, it would be so easy to _rip,_ and _burn,_ and _tear... No,_ Osmosis cried, but in his mind, he could already picture the hungry, swirling flames. His claw flexed again, this time on its own accord.

 _Mmm, baby, it's Ozzie time! It's time to turn up the heat in here!_ He purred, the thought as uncoiling as pure and uninhibited as a double-helix strand of DNA.

He raised a deadly claw up in the air.

But before could bring it down, his mind cleared. _Wait-stop! What am I thinking!?_ Setting anything on fire seemed appealing right about now. _I can't harm something that's a part of Frank! Not here, and not like this! I can't do it._

He was scared by how much the idea excited him.

That was why, when he saw the flash of red and blue lights turn the corner, he threw himself against the window of an empty warehouse to the right of him instead. He kept his claw tucked away from him as he fell through, glass shattering against the against the shoulder and the side of his cheek, eyes scrunched tight from the impact.

When he opened them again, he was inside the building, his claw leaving spider web cracks on the ground.

 _No!_ Osmosis thought, recoiling in horror, but the festering red-gold remained.

He heard the low sound of the Immunity vehicle rolling to a stop on gravel. A second later, he heard the sound of heavy boots hitting the ground. He held his breath, staying low. Luckily, his killer claw chose that moment to deactivate. Osmosis sighed in relief as the hungry, aching feeling in his claw and in his chest subsided.

The yellow beam of a flashlight swiveled around and the virus backed as far as he could against the nearby wall, hardly daring to breathe. The footsteps sounded like they were still coming from outside, but closer.

"This is it?" A female voice asked, cutting through the silence like a knife edge.

"Yep, this is it." A much gruffer male voice agreed. "Last stop before heading back to the station. Sources say the perp ran this way, but I can't imagine any virus getting this far. Whaddya think?"

Osmosis watched the yellow light filter between the cracks, hardly daring to breathe. It then flickered over in the direction the tall fence he'd been trying to climb only moments before.

"I don't see any signs of virus activity here," the female voice said, "It's so dark and quiet. I'd be less surprised if we saw a ghost."

Her partner chuckled. "So whaddya say we head back, then?"

Boots scuffled. "Agreed."

It wasn't until the Immunity officers got back in the car and he heard the doors slam shut that Osmosis was able to breathe. The whole place was plunged back into darkness as the two drove away.

He slumped to the ground, feeling tired and drained and completely exhausted. Now that he'd stopped running and his claw burned out, he was cold now as well. Shivering, he drew his knees to his chest, and drew Thrax's chain out of his jacket pocket. What was left of it, that is. The jacket was a charred mess, ruined by the heat-just like him.

 _Just like Thrax, just like Thrax, just like Thrax—_ The cruel voice taunted, and this time Osmosis believed it. _Frank, he was right!_ There were cells back there, and he'd wanted to burn them!

Ashamed, Osmosis curled even tighter into a ball, whimpering softly to himself. A single tear rolled down his cheek, sizzling as it hit the ground.

"Frank, no... I-I don't wanna be a virus," he groaned, wiping his face on the back of a clawed hand. "I-I'm not like Thrax, I'M NOT!"

 _You are,_ the dark voice whispered, and he closed his eyes in a silent plea, doing his best to resist it. _Please. Please. I don't want to be a virus. I don't wanna feel what Thrax feels, or be cold and hungry all the time. I don't wanna burn things. I don't wanna hurt anybody. Please! I don't wanna be the bad guy!_ Another boiling tear ran down the side of his face and then another, and Osmosis buried his face in his hands.

 _Please, somebody help me,_ he begged again, realizing for the first time ever that viruses could cry.

* * *

 _5:23 PM_

"Osmosis! Are you there? This is Drix to Osmosis, can you hear me?"

"Drix!" Osmosis exclaimed, waking with a start. It was funny, but he didn't even remember falling asleep. He had no idea how much time had passed although judging by the darkening shadows outside, it had been at least a couple of hours. But despite his condition, he felt refreshed and relieved, his whole body aching with relief as he heard his partner's voice crackle to life on the radio. He pulled the walkie talkie out of his pocket, flicking the dial to _on._

"I hear you, partner."

"Goodness, Ozzie! Where have you been?" Every syllable of his partner's voice crackled with relief. "I've been all over Frank trying to find you." Before the newly turned virus could even _think_ of a way to respond to that, Drix pressed on. "You need to come back to the precinct, and quick! There's been so many new developments. And Chief thinks he knows what might have happened to the missing beads."

Osmosis looked down at the chain, still looped around his wrist. He'd been absentmindedly thumbing the beads with one claw. His expression immediately slipped back into one of unease. "About that...Drix...I can't come back to the precinct."

"What? Why not?"

Of all things, why did Drix have to sound so genuinely surprised? Osmosis stared down at his ugly set of claws, trying hard not to cry. Why did Drix have to make things even harder than they already had to be?

His clawed hands curled into fists.

"I don't know. I just can't." _Please Drix, please don't make this hard._

Drix paused for a moment. "Tell me where you are." He said, his voice conveying that this was a perfectly clear and reasonable idea. "And I'll come find you."

Osmosis laughed unsteadily. "I don't know if that's a good idea, Drix... I don't really feel like myself right now."

"Are you injured? I'll bring a first aid kit." The alarm was sharp in Drix's voice.

"No! It's not that, Drix...It's just...I don't know how to tell you..." Osmosis swallowed hard, feeling guilty. What was he going to tell Drix, that out of the blue Thrax's chain turned him into a virus? As ashamed of himself as he was, part of him wanted to drop the act and tell Drix everything. _But what can I say that's not gonna make him freak out on me?_ " He took another deep breath, this one to steady his nerves, bracing himself for the worst. "Okay... I'll tell you where I am, but on one condition. You gotta come alone, deal?"

"Deal."

Osmosis hesitated for a moment, his voice trailing off. "And Drix..?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry I couldn't be a better partner. Or a better cop."

* * *

 _5:45 PM_

Drix drove towards the old warehouse as fast as he could, thankful for Osmosis's spare set of keys and the car. It would have been a long trip down to the Pons on foot, even for someone without feet like him, who travelled around on a wave of cherry-scented propulsion. However, even in a car the trip didn't feel fast enough. Drix might not have been the most emotionally perceptive of micro-organisms (though he was incredibly so for a pill), but he could tell without a doubt by the tone in Osmosis's voice that something had gone terribly, terribly wrong, and it was his duty to find out what.

As he pulled up to the old warehouse, he wondered why Osmosis had chosen _here_ to meet up of all places. It was far away from the neon lights and colorful city nightlife. The building was dusty and abandoned, looking like it hadn't been used in years. He pulled the car into park right outside, then squeezed out of the tight space with a _pop._

Drix looked around. There was no sign of his partner anywhere.

"Hello? Osmosis?" He called.

"Over here, Drix." A muffled voice said. It sounded like it came from inside the warehouse.

"Osmosis?" Drix frowned. There was a large, shattered window but it was too dark to peer inside. He went around the side and pushed down the door with brown, squeaky hinges instead. It hit the ground with a _thump,_ dust settling on the ground. Drix waited for it to clear before stepping on inside. He squinted into the darkness.

 _"..._ Osmosis? Where are you?"

"I _said..._ I'm right here."

Drix gasped as red virus approached him, its pale greenish-yellow eyes glinting in the low light. He raised his arm cannon in response.

"You, virus! What have you done with Osmosis Jones?"

"Ooh, Drix, that hurts." The virus flinched, holding up his hands in surrender. He tried to flash the cold pill a teasing smile, only for his expression to fade back into one of heartbreaking despair. "...It's really that bad, huh?"

Drix stared at him a second, caught off guard and not really knowing what to think. Suddenly, it clicked. Drix lowered his gun with a gasp.

" _Osmosis?"_

* * *

 **Author's Note: Whoo hoo, first update of 2019! After a relaxing New Year, Chasing Snarks is ready to be back in business, baby! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It's a short one but a heavy one. I really thought long and hard about what to write since we've been building up to this point for so long, and decided to show how Osmosis turning into a virus is beginning to take its full psychological and emotional toll. We'll be touching on some of the more physical aspects of Ozzie being a virus next. :)**

 **On a somewhat unrelated note, I had a dream a couple nights ago where kid!Ozzie met kid!Thrax and it's been bouncing around my brain ever since. I really want to write a fic about it, either as a longer one-shot fic or a shorter multi-part story. I imagine it would be fairly cute and lighthearted, and definitely not as in-depth as this story. I'm considering putting it off or writing it now. If I wrote it now, you guys would be seeing the first part of it in three weeks instead of the usual update of _Paradigm Shift._ I figured I'd just throw it out there. Which would you prefer: _Paradigm Shift_ or a Thrax and Ozzie kid fic? If you have a preference, leave it in the comments! Otherwise it's up to me to decide. **

**Well folks, that's all for now. See you all in three weeks!**


	10. Chapter 4, Part 1

**Chapter 4, Part 1**

* * *

 **Chapter 4, Part 1—Adaptation: To Be a Virus**

* * *

 **"It's difficult to ever go back to the same places or people. You turn away, even for a moment, and when you turn back around, everything's changed."—Gabrielle Zevin, Elsewhere**

* * *

Drix stopped dead in his tracks. The red virus had spoken with his partner's voice.

"Osmosis?" He gasped, hardly daring to believe it was true. "How did..." For once Drix floundered for words, immediately recognizing his partner. " _Osmosis._.. What _happened_ to you?"

The virus's yellow-green eyes widened. Whether it was from fear or relief, Drix couldn't tell. "Thrax's stupid chain, that's what!" He exclaimed, waving his hands in air. He continued behaving exactly like his partner would. "One minute I was fine and the next minute—BAM! I took that chain from the ugly-lookin' viral mother and wound up lookin' like this!"

Drix suddenly remembered Osmosis's strange behavior back at Cerebellum Hall. "But Deputy O'Cyte and I—we saw you earlier. Why didn't you say anything?"

Osmosis—and there was no doubt in the cold pill's mind now that this really _was_ his partner—looked down at the ground, his expression torn between one of guilt and regret. "I wanted to tell you, but...I just couldn't. I was scared of how you were gonna react."

"I would have tried to help you!" Drix exclaimed.

"Yeah, you an' nobody else." Osmosis said, looking up. His green eyes glinted with the hint of challenge. "You know what happens to infected cells in Frank?"

"No." Drix said. He hesitated. Having grown up in an Ivy League pill bottle, he'd never had to think about that question before. "What does happen to them?"

He might not have known, but judging by Osmosis's expression, it wasn't anything good.

"They lyse 'em, Drix, they lyse 'em." The virus sighed, shaking his head. "And it don't matter what for." Osmosis hesitated, his tone suddenly turned softer, more vulnerable. "Remember when I told you 'bout my dad being on the force?"

Drix nodded uncertainly. "Yes. The badge the Chief gave you... He said it belonged to your father."

Osmosis visibly deflated, looking uneasily down at his claws. "Yeah...Chief and my dad worked together thirteen, fourteen years ago. Sometimes I think the only reason Chief kept me around 'til you showed up and we saved Frank was 'cause of my dad. They weren't exactly friends, but they knew each other. After he was gone the Chief was always showin' up, makin' sure my mom and I were okay."

"I... I never knew that." Drix frowned, trying to equate the stern, yelling Chief they knew to one to a kind, compassionate one, always checking up on the Jones family to make sure they were okay. A thought occurred to him. "How old were you?"

"I was eight years old, Drix, and my dad was my hero. When I grew up, I thought I was gonna be just like him." He chuckled bitterly, flexing his claws. The fire in his eyes died. "He was the best booty-shakin' officer Frank has ever seen, and we were so proud when he got that promotion. Bein' an officer in Frank's Finest was even harder back then than it is now, and we were low on carbs. It was right before Frank's wife died, right when everything started goin' downhill."

"You mean... there was a time where Frank was _worse off_ than when I got here?"

"Yeah, the big guy was taking everything real bad, with his wife dying and the hospital bills. He stopped caring about himself and lost his job. That was 'bout the time Mayor Phlemming got elected. He said a fat Frank is a happy Frank, he said, and everyone believed him. And it sort of worked, if you count bein' happy as eating away your troubles an' washing your face every night in fried chicken." Osmosis scoffed.

The bitterness and regret was clear, even with his viral features. And now that the shock had worn off a little, Drix found himself curious and trying to learn more about the kind of virus Osmosis had become.

Although he was the same height and build as before, his face was sharper and more angular, closely resembling Thrax's. The general shape of it was still the same, but his jawline was harder and more defined, and his cheekbones jutted out sharply to the sides. However, they were smaller and less pointed-looking than Thrax's were, and he still bore his familiar goatee as well, although now it was a deep shade of purple. Unlike Thrax, his eyes were more green than gold, and his dreads were shorter as well. They crested from the top of his head, longer and thicker but still faintly reminiscent of his old hairstyle.

The man looking back at him was his own virus; not Thrax, but Ozzie the Red Death.

Drix felt reassured at still being able to recognize his partner. Even if he looked a bit like Thrax, his old personality still remained; it was clear to Drix that Osmosis still cared about him and keeping Frank safe.

However, Osmosis didn't notice as Drix's expression shifted to one of temporary relief. He was too caught up in the memories. "...But my dad never gave up, no siree." He said, pain and nostalgia tinging his voice. "No one on Immunity did. We mighta been poor and had no money for no fancy schooling, but we kept on going. I stayed up every night waitin' for him to return. He was determined to save Frank, even if that meant fightin' a new bad guy every week. Frank never washed his hands, even at the hospital. We picked up some big germs there, some Al Roker germs. One of them was Dengue Fever."

Drix looked thoughtful. "Dengue Fever, like the one we saw today?"

It was Osmosis's turn to stare at him in surprise. "Whoa, hold on. _That_ guy was Dengue Fever? Big and ugly, helping those Yellow Fever viruses steal that chain? Why didn't you tell me?!"

"I didn't think it was that important," Drix protested. "I only thought it was strange afterwards when Chief pulled us off the case—"

"What the—why'd Chief take us off the case?" Osmosis exclaimed. Without meaning to, he felt his killer claw light up.

Drix noticed as it well. "Y-your claw!" He shouted.

Osmosis flinched, looking shame-faced, as he tucked the claw behind his back. "Sorry Drix, I don' know how to control it. All I know how to do is wait for it to go away."

The burning sensation laced through his claw same as before. Osmosis felt his breathing grown unsteady as he felt himself fighting against sensations he couldn't ignore; the itching, burning feeling, the _heat._ He longed drag his blistering claw down something, _anything,_ and watch as it burst into flames, and bask in the fever-warmth as it pooled at his feet.

Drix propelled himself a step closer. "Does it hurt?" He asked.

Osmosis just wished he'd step away. "Nah, it don't hurt." He said through gritted teeth. _Burn baby, burn._ In fact, his problem was the opposite. "Just feels really weird," he lied, "that's all."

Drix stared at him with an open expression caught at between scientific desire and revulsion. "Can I see it?"

Reluctantly, Osmosis held out his claw. _Don't freak out, don't freak out, don't freak out..._

Heat rolled off the glowing orange claw in waves.

 _Like takin' a hot metal pan outta the oven,_ Osmosis thought bitterly, _only this would do a lot more than burn you._ However, Drix was no longer afraid of the glowing claw. He admired it the way he'd admired Osmosis's shapeshifting abilities outside The Zit; his expression was only intrigued.

"It activated without you wanting it to-what an ingenious mechanism for self-defense!"

Osmosis huffed, glaring defensively at his claw. "Ingenious? I don't care how _ingenious_ it is! How do I turn this stupid glow stick off!" He _really_ wished his claw hadn't chosen to ignite right now, or that it even ignited at all. The ravenous virus instincts were making it hard to think. Osmosis took an unsteady breath, forcing himself to focus. He looked back up at Drix. "So you were sayin'?"

"Oh! Um, right." Drix said, looking sheepish, and Osmosis realized he was distracted by the killer claw as well. "Chief took us off the case and put Officer Hodgkins and her new partner in charge. He said that Bonecrusher was a dangerous virus and gave us express orders not to go anywhere _near_ him."

"Bonecrusher, huh?" Osmosis mused. He sighed in relief as he felt his killer claw deactivate, taking away the burning, insatiable heat. _I wonder if he's the one from all those years ago._ One hand strayed to his pocket, where the precious hypothalamus beads were kept. "We gotta get out of here. I got a feelin' he's after more than that chain."

* * *

 _The Inner Ear, 6:15 PM_

They drove until they reached small dive located deep in Frank's inner ear. It was one of the closest germ zones to the brain, and a bustling one at that. Mayor Colonic had promised to speak through Frank's subconscious to try and start using Q tips to clean inside the ear, but until that happened, the coast may as well have been all clear. So many germs were coming and going that even a red virus with a striking resemblance to Frank's would-be killer fit right in.

As if to prove the point, the club's bouncer let Osmosis in with hardly a passing glance, but paused and gave Drix a suspicious glare.

 _The Qube,_ as the bar was called, had a vibrant, edgy feel similar to The Zit, but was too toned-down to be anything but a bar. There were no neon lights, but a small checkered floor in the middle of the room for dancing. The majority of germs and the occasional cell were gathered at the dimly lit bar. Osmosis went over to grab himself a drink. In a miserable fog, he wasn't quite sure what he ordered. And quite frankly, he didn't care.

The bartender set to work, blending his own sweat and pus with the sticky-sweet contents of a jar, whipping it into a froth and serving it over a glass of something steaming hot. He sat it down in front of Osmosis with a dull _clink,_ the red virus looking up with a start.

"Here ya go, kid, this one's on the house. Don't worry 'bout payin' me back; looks like ya really need it."

Osmosis muttered his thanks and made his way over to where he and Drix were seated.

"So you honest to glutinous don't know how to change back?" Drix asked as soon as he sat down and defeated, Osmosis shook his head. He pulled the hypothalamus chain out of his pocket and sat it out on the table.

"No, I stole the chain, hopin' it would help, but it didn't." He suddenly grew defensive. "Hey! Whatchu lookin' at me like that for? I wasn't gonna keep it or anything!" He uncrossed his arms, slumping down with a sigh. "You know what? You should probably have it instead of me. Here, take it."

"Osmosis! Listen to me." Drix made no move to pick up the chain up off the table. "You're being too hard on yourself. You need to stop with this harmful way of thinking. Weren't you the one who told me you once knew a sugar pill who cured cancer?"

Osmosis laughed dryly. "If you haven't noticed Drix, I ain't no sugar pill." He sniffed the drink experimentally. "Extra disgusting," he said, and found it to be true. The creamy pus-laced beverage was sweeter than maltose but burned just as nicely going down. He drained the rest of the glass, wiping his mouth on his back of his sleeve as he set it down. "Just the way I like it."

The irony of the situation wasn't lost on either of them.

The red virus glanced down, spinning his long claw tips in circles around the empty glass. "I think the only guy who'd know how change me back is Thrax."

"But Thrax is dead." Drix said.

Osmosis squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. "About that, Drix..." He looked up at the cold pill with a nervous grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. "...I maybe sorta lied?"

* * *

 _Cerebellum Hall, 6:45 PM_

Leah Estrogen stood in front of the Mayor's office, taking a deep breath before knocking on the door. "They're ready for you, Mister Mayor."

A heartbeat later, she heard Mayor Colonic's mellow voice come from the other side. "Very good, Leah. Send them in."

The purple blood cell ushered the two Immunity officers inside. The first was a tall blonde she-cell with Amazonian proportions while the second was a scowling T-Cell who looked dark and lean in a black leather jacket and jeans. Mayor Colonic neatly stacked and folded the papers setting on his desk and looked up at them with a look of pleasant surprise.

"Ah. Officer Hodgkins, Agent Krebs. Chief told me to expect a couple officers over to fill us in on the break in." He said. "You can stay, Leah," he added as Leah turned to leave.

Wordlessly, Leah nodded and stood with her arms folded, back towards the door. She was flattered that the Mayor had trusted her enough to let her to stay in his office, but it did nothing to stop the feeling of unease from welling up in her throat. Almost a whole day had passed, and several hours since Drix went looking for Osmosis. Why hadn't she heard from either of them since?

 _You knew what you were getting into with Jones,_ the small, logical voice in the back of her mind said. _It's all part of the job. And right now all you can do is focus on yours._

 _Right,_ Leah thought to herself. Frank and the Mayor needed help, and it didn't matter if Jones was missing. Worrying about it wasn't going to add another minute to her life. Besides, Jones was like a cat scratch fever with nine lives. Any minute now he and Drix were going to come bursting through the door, bragging about their brand-new adventure.

Everything else was gonna turn out just fine.

"...the viruses that broke in to the archives were identified successfully as two Yellow Fever and a Dengue virus," Officer Krebs was saying. He sounded stiff and formal as Drix but not half as friendly. She'd never met a Cytotoxic T-cell before but there was something about the flatness of his eyes she'd saw when they came in that made Leah want to shiver. "But according to a civilian report, they no longer have the chain."

"Then who does?" Mayor Colonic asked.

"A Red Death." Agent Krebs answered grimly, and Leah felt a chill go down her spine for real that time.

"It's only a rumor," Officer Hodgkins broke in quickly, her tone earnest, and Leah was suddenly glad that they couldn't see her expression standing by the door. "We've still got to verify what's on the report and so far, our only lead is an eyewitness account from a lone gray brain cell. But if it's true, then that means-"

Mayor Colonic rose from his chair, hands still resting on the sides of his desk. "Then Frank is in even more danger than we thought." He focused his even gaze on the two officers intently. "Let the Chief know that at the first sign of virus activity, we'll take all the proper precautions; vitamin C, bedrest, extra fluids. Leah, make a note of that and be ready to send it out to the rest of the office."

"Yes, Mr. Mayor." Leah agreed, making a note to write it down. A thought occurred to her. "But if these viruses are bent on takin' down Frank," she wondered, "Then why'd they go through all the trouble of taking Thrax's chain instead of just goin' for the bead in Frank's hypothalamus?"

Mayor Colonic looked up at her thoughtfully. "That's a good question," he said, "And quite Frankly, I don't know the answer."

Agent Krebs regarding them all blankly for a moment.

"I know a way to find out."

* * *

 _The Inner Ear, 6:47 PM_

"YOU WHAT!?"

"Drix, wait!" Osmosis cried as Drix stormed out of the bar. "I actually don't know what happened to him! After jumping off the false eyelash I just turned around and he was gone! I dunno what happened!"

Drix whirled around as soon as they were in the cool night air, away from the germs and cells that were casting them curious, reproachful looks. "And you didn't think to TELL anyone around it? Oh, I cannot _believe_ you right now!"

Osmosis narrowed his eyes, his clawed hands curling into fists. For the first time that night, he actually resembled Thrax. "I liked bein' the hero, alright!?" He snapped in response, throwing his hands out to the sides. "What'd you expect me to do?" He made an angry gesture in the air. "For the first time in my life people were actually thinkin' I'd done something right!"

"So you lied to everyone," Drix said, watching as Osmosis's expression turned guilty. He shook his head at Osmosis's crestfallen look. "I can't believe it. Part of me _still_ can't believe it. I am so—so _cross_ with you right now!"

"Drix, wait!" Osmosis reached out with his non-lethal hand as Drix started to leave. "I'm sorry! Please forgive me. I know I wasn't straight with you. But please, you gotta gimme another chance. I'm gonna make things right-"

"How in FRANK are you going to make thinks right?" Drix demanded. "You're a VIRUS!" Immediately, Osmosis stopped as if slapped, and Drix realized his mistake too late. "Wait—no," he faltered, "Ozzie, I didn't mean—"

Osmosis's shocked expression gradually hardened. "'It's whatever, Drips, I know _exactly_ what you meant." He shoved his hands in his pockets, shouldering past Drix. "Guess I'll be seein' you around."

"Osmosis! Wait!" Drix called weakly, but Osmosis didn't turn around.

The sky was gray overhead. Thunder rumbled, and then it started to rain.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hey guys, this week it's a LONG chapter! Never heard back from anyone on the Thrax and Ozzy kidfic, so we're going to go and plow ahead with Paradigm Shift. Boy, did I have a fun time writing this chapter. Lots of plot, lots of interpersonal drama, and you guys finally get to find out a little more of Osmosis's backstory and what exactly IS going down in Frank. Hopefully some of the stuff from previous chapters is all starting to make sense, though I'm sure you all now have more questions than answers. :)**

 **Describing the way I imagined Ozzy's virus appearance turned out to be way harder than I thought. For me, the trickiest part was deciding on the hair for virus!Ozzy and deciding whether or not he should keep the goatee. In the end, I decided to opt for some differently-styled hair while keeping the iconic goatee'd look. If anyone is curious, looking up Kimonger from Black Panther should give you a better idea of how Osmosis's dreads should look.**

 **Until next time,**

 **-Chasing Snarks**


End file.
